Changed Fates
by JimBo854
Summary: Ten more seconds and a mysterious book change the fates of Harry, Draco, Hermione and others. HPGW, DMHG, RWLL. HBP Spoilers. Nominated in 1st round of Dragon's Bride Awards. Nominated for Best WIP and Best First Kiss at Dangerous Liasons.
1. 10 More Seconds

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**PROLOGUE: Ten More Seconds**

_Malfoy did not speak. His mouth was open, his wand hand still trembling. Harry thought he saw it drop by a fraction—_

And then it dropped. Malfoy looked as defeated as he ever had, his eyes as lifeless as they were after their battle in the bathroom. Unable to raise his eyes to meet Dumbledore's, he spoke so quietly it seemed a whisper, "What should I do?"

"Well, considering four Death Eaters are about to enter, I would suggest locking that door most quickly," Dumbledore answered nodding at the Astronomy Tower door behind Draco.

A look of terror crossed his face, but Malfoy quickly turned and raised his wand to the door.

"_Colloportus._"

"Well done Draco," Dumbledore spoke as he walked over and placed his good hand on Draco's shoulder. "I will hold to my promise to protect you, but this evening I fear I must indulge you for protection for a little longer. I myself am not up to defeating the dozen of Voldemort's followers you have allowed to gain entrance to the school on my own."

There was a pounding on the door and as voices on the other side began casting unlocking charms Dumbledore reached out and touched the door with his uninjured hand and the old block of wood seemed to glow for a moment and the voices quieted. Harry saw the fear turn to terror in Malfoy's eyes, "But I can't… they… they brought Greyback and I can't… not alone."

Malfoy didn't react when Dumbledore took the boy's wand and with a flick of his wrist his own came flying back to him. He offered Malfoy the original wand back and explained, "Certainly you could not defeat all of them at once, Draco. I believe no individual in this room could claim victory over that task at the moment. But if we work together, I am sure it will all work out. Don't you agree, Harry?"

Harry found he could move once more and quickly removed his Invisibility Cloak, revealing his presence. He stepped forward and looked at Malfoy, who still found he could not meet anyone's eyes. Harry felt he should say something. Maybe not "thanks", necessarily, but something to show Malfoy had for once done the right thing. But renewed voices and a great explosion on the other side of the door interrupted any conversation. Standing between the others and the door, Harry looked at a very frail Dumbledore and a grave feeling came over him.

"Sir, I don't think you should…"

"Now Harry," Dumbledore began, leading Malfoy by the shoulder so they all three stood side-by-side. "As I told you earlier this evening, I am certainly not afraid of these few would-be murderers while in your company. And now we have Draco with us as well. Now, will Hogwart's two finest young duelists disappoint me?"

"No, we won't Professor," Harry agreed after a moment's consideration and a look at Malfoy, who simply shook his head and raised his wand towards the door. Harry raised his own wand level as another blast sounded at the door, tearing away splinters of wood.

Finally, Dumbledore brought his wand forward and as a final blast shattered the door said, "Together now, gentlemen."

"_EXPELLIARMUS!"_

The three combined spells sent the four attackers flying back down the stairway. Harry led the way down the stairs followed a short way after by Malfoy and Dumbledore last with his hand still leaning on Draco's shoulder. When they reached the corridor, Harry saw the duels throughout the hallway. A large Death Eater casting spells against Tonks that went flying in every direction, McGonagall facing a pair of enemies standing near a bloody body with red hair that stopped his heart for a moment. It did not beat again until he saw Ginny not too far away leaping to and fro and avoiding curses from a grey-haired Death Eater with blood covering his lips and chin. Raising his wand, Harry yelled, "_Petrificus Totalus!_"

Harry's body bind charm hit the werewolf Fenrir Greyback from behind and sent him crashing to the ground. Ginny barely had time to nod and smile at Harry before she leapt aside as another curse zipped past her. Three Death Eaters quickly advanced at Harry wands raised. Harry put up a shield charm just in time to deflect the first curse. From behind him two curses hit the male and female Death Eaters on the left. The boy was quickly bound by tight ropes and the other stumbled a bit and fired off three curses, one of which hit the third in the head and sent him crashing to the ground. Harry fired off another body bind spell at the confunded female Death Eater and she fell to the ground.

Ginny raced past Harry in a blur and before he fully realized what was happening, she knocked both Malfoy and Dumbledore onto the ground as a blast of a green curse zipped mere inches over their heads. Bolting up, Harry saw the wand that had fired the Killing Curse. It stood outright in the hand of a furious Professor Severus Snape.

"Traitor!" Harry screamed as he raced forward towards his Defense teacher.

"Potter is mine alone," Snape called out to his fellow Death Eaters.

Ducking down low, Harry avoided an exchange of curses between the large Death Eater and Tonks, who had now been joined by Lupin and was gaining ground. As the distance to Snape was exhausted, Harry screamed off an attempt at a Full Body Bind, a Leg Locker and even a Stunning Spell, but each attack Snape parried away effortlessly. Sneering at him, Snape simply pointed his wand at Harry and before he could block, Harry fell to the ground at the Defense professor's feet. Pointing his wand at Harry's heart, Snape hissed, "Close your mouth and shut your mind Potter, or do not consider assaulting your betters in the future."

Before casting what Harry was sure would be a Killing Curse at him, Snape glanced up and saw Draco being hurtled off the ground and towards a stone pillar.

"_Protectaro!"_

As Malfoy hit the pillar it seemed as if most of the structure hit some type of protective bubble surrounding him. Rising quickly, he glanced off at Snape before drawing his attention back to the Death Eater advancing on him. Deflecting a hex, Draco fired back with an Impediment Charm that froze his attacker in mid swing.

By the time Snape turned his attention back to his own battle, Harry had rolled over and recovered his wand. Fighting off the remaining haze from the last attack, he pointed his wand upward and simply thought _Levi_—

Snape knocked the nonverbal away with even more ease than the spells Harry had been screaming at the top of his lungs. A devilish smile crept onto Snape's lips. All Harry could think about was the Killing Curse that nearly hit Dumbledore and Ginny. Shrugging off another jolt of pain that broke through his shields Harry came around and again took aim at Snape's chest, "_Sectum_—"

With a flick of his wrist Snape sent the curse flying back at Harry tearing the skin of his left arm open with a decent gash. As his eyes glazed over black like a feeding shark, Snape bellowed at the boy, "You dare use my own spells against me! Those I invent and you steal, just as your father did. Let this be a lesson when next you plan on stealing school property, Potter. _LE_—"

"Enough Severus!"

Wheeling around Snape saw Dumbledore and the other members of the Order staring down, wands raised at him. Lupin and Tonks appeared furious, each held back only by Dumbledore's presence from ending Snape's life. While Remus slowly inched forward, his eyes never leaving Harry, Tonks started right out of Snape's field of vision. McGonagall stood next to the headmaster, supporting him while still keeping her eyes trained on her colleague. On the floor behind them lay eleven frozen and bound and one deceased Death Eater. Madam Pomfrey had arrived and was in the distance kneeling next to a bloodied Bill Weasley and Neville Longbottom.

Beside Professor McGonagall stood Ginny Weasley, whose eyes were full of fear and rage. It was her and not Dumbledore that spoke next. "Get the bloody hell away from him."

Lowering his wand, Snape stepped forward and stood before Dumbledore and met his gaze evenly. Harry stumbled to his feet and moved over towards the others, never looking away from Snape. He soon found himself standing between Draco Malfoy, who was bleeding from a scrape on his forehead, and Ginny. Her wand-free hand reached down and grabbed Harry's squeezing it as she fought back a sniffle. Snape looked down at Draco then up to Dumbledore and back again. "Switching teams in the middle of the game, Mr. Malfoy?"

Harry noticed that the younger Slytherin continued his practice of not speaking to anyone or looking directly at them. He instead lowered his wand and shifted around in place. It was Dumbledore that answered for him, "It seems as if he has. I must say I am delighted over his change of heart. Aren't you Severus?"

"It was... unexpected. You are as persuasive as ever, Albus."

Nodding, Dumbledore had a sparkle in eyes for the first time since he began drinking Voldemort's foul concoction. "Thank you, my friend. Although we are now left at an impasse. It seems utterly certain young Draco will not be killing anyone tonight."

"Then we have the matter of—"

"The Unbreakable Vow." As he spoke, every member of the group's eyes flashed at the headmaster for a moment. "I supposed that would be the only reason you would attempt to assist him and keep it hidden from me. Draco will not kill me. And he has my thanks and pride for making this decision. So now you must."

Harry went to object furiously, but found he was unable to move or speak for the second time that hour. Flashing his eyes back and forth, he saw all the others save Snape and Dumbledore were frozen, eyes flashing around as frantically as his were. Dumbledore removed his arm from Professor McGonagall's grasp and stepped forward.

"Let us hurry Severus. I have not nearly my former strength. They will all be free in minutes. The Order will require more service from you before the end. It won't do to have Riddle free to act without any information passing to our side. It is time, my friend."

Snape twitched only slightly. Besides this he appeared as frozen as any of the others. He started to mutter an objection. Then he face was overtaken with a steely resolve. He nodded, raised his wand and pointed it at Dumbledore's heart and quietly muttered, "avada kedavra."

Harry felt his heart shatter as the spell hit the grey-haired man in the chest. But he stood tall.

"Come now my old friend. Any fourth year student knows you need to _mean it_ to perform the Killing Curse. Let us be adults about this. Do not dance around what you know must be done."

Again Snape stared Dumbledore in the eye and worked up a rage in his eyes, breathing heavily. His blood seemed to boil and his face became contorted and flush red. Dumbledore simply stood still with a kind and sympathetic smile on his face. Slowly, Snape swallowed a breath and screamed, "AVADA KEDA—"

As green steam began to spill forth Snape closed his eyes and dropped his wand to the ground. It seemed to Harry that tears began to appear in the cruel teacher's eyes before they glazed over and Snape fell to the ground dead, a faint red flame burning over his hands.

The next few hours were a blur for Harry. He vaguely recalled racing with Ginny down to the hospital after Bill; meeting Hermione, Ron and Luna around Neville's bed and hearing stories of Snape's assault of Professor Flitwick; Mrs. Weasley and Fleur holding each other as they cried over a sleeping Bill. Lupin and Tonks definitely started holding hands shortly after that. He vaguely recalled McGonagall and Dumbledore announcing the students returning home in the morning.

Harry was pretty sure Hermione objected to that a bit more harshly than he or Ron would have. Ginny was there with him all the time holding his hand and he was thankful for that constant. The only two words he clearly remembered in the morning occurred when Hagrid came in and told Dumbledore about "Snape's body" being moved. Then the two men walked out the front door of the hospital wing and for just a moment he caught Malfoy's eye on the other side.

Draco's head popped up as the door opened and Dumbledore strode out of the hospital wing followed closely behind by Hagrid. Before the door shut he caught Potter's eye. It struck Draco as odd and he shook his head thinking about how they nearly killed each other not all that long ago in a bathroom only to end this night fighting on the same side. But there was the satisfaction that Potter had to remain 'the Chosen One' and face the Dark Lord, while he could leave and put all this behind. If Dumbledore stood by his promise in the Astronomy Tower he and his mother and one day his father would all be protected and together. His family could be safe.

Dumbledore stopped and sat on the bench beside him. He leaned slightly closer and explained, "I am sorry about Professor Snape, Draco. I know you were close. He mentioned to me many times what a credit to your House you were and often wished he could set you aside from the path he followed himself into the service of Tom Riddle."

Draco merely nodded. He had no intention of thinking about the man who had really been protecting him and died because of what Draco had done... had failed to do. The old man continued, "Unfortunately the events of this night have left me too weakened to help you collect your mother at this time. However, Hagrid here will accompany you to the gates. From there you may disapparate to Malfoy Manor. Gather what possessions you wish to bring with you and have your mother do the same. We have mere hours until the free Death Eaters realized their comrades have failed. Hagrid and other members of the Order of the Phoenix will arrive at dawn to collect you."

"But I haven't taken the test yet, I'm not allowed to—"

"Yes Draco, I know how ardently you believe in following the rules, but I truly believe these are extenuating circumstances which require speed over caution. Now, all ready to go?"

Draco nodded once more and began walking down the hallway followed closely by the half-giant professor he had spent the better part of six years insulting at every opportunity. Though he hoped they could simply walk to the front gates in silence, they had barely passed through the front doors and started across the grounds when Hagrid near-mumbled, "Anyway Malfoy, Aye wanted ta tell yeh dat Dumbledore told everyone how yeh saved him."

"I didn't save anyone," Draco replied without turning around.

"Well," Hagrid continued, "Not the way I 'eard it. Dumbledore told us all 'ow yeh met up with Harry and him in 'da tower and helped 'em. Spect' he's a bit under the weather. Feelin' down Dumbledore is. But said yeh took down three Death Eaters. Wonder how they got in 'ere ta begin wit."

"Nobody knows?" Draco asked and came to a sudden stop. Hagrid ran into the much smaller man and knocked him to the ground. Malfoy shrugged off Hagrid's enormous mitt of a hand as it tried to pick him back up.

"Well, Dumbledore said he and Harry got it all figured out, but that it's top secret. Won't ever happen again Dumbledore said. But anyway, wanted yeh ta know I was mighty proud of you and Harry puttin' dat silly feud away and workin' together. I figure only way ta' stop You-Know-Who is by workin' together like the Sortin' Hat said."

"'_Like the hat said!'_ Who cares what the bloody hat said in those stupid songs? I—I—I just want it to be over," Draco said as he walked past the gates.

"Eh, yes. Er… Well, tis for the night at least. We'll see yeh in an hour or so."

Not acknowledging Hagrid, Draco concentrated on the grounds just outside Malfoy Manor in Wiltshire. A moment later, he disapparated and left Hogwarts and immediately found himself standing in front of his family home.

Standing out amidst a large forest and beyond a high gate was Malfoy Manor. The well-manicured lawn encompassed a stately moated manor house with 60 rooms over three floors loomed ahead of Draco. As he entered the main gate, Draco noticed the only sources of light were the moon reflecting off of the narrow moat and a light hum of a fireplace emanating in his mother's sitting room on the ground floor.

Upon entering the manor alone, one is taken aback by the seeming immensity of the place. The tall foyer ceiling and wide hallways can make even a full-grown man feel unimposing. The feeling is only increased in the hallways, littered with six foot tall portraits of the previous residents of the house; some 650 years worth of pureblooded Malfoys, the elite of their world. It is said that even the Malfoy heirs themselves are intimidated by the Manor. But tonight Draco had no time for such feelings, no time to think on how much a failure he now was compared to those that came before him. Walking hurriedly past the doors for the drawing room and his father's private study, he began to hear the faint sound of his mother humming. By the time he reached her door, the tune was easily recognized as a lullaby that had not been sung in that house in many years.

As Draco reached for the handle, he paused at a familiar voice within that made him stand razor-straight as the hairs on the back of his neck bolted up. A voice unheard by Draco for most of his adult life, which had become uncomfortably familiar over the previous summer, sounded from within. How could he rescue his mother with the most loyal and dangerous of the free Death Eaters in the same room? Raising his mental shields, he shut his mind out as his mother and her sister Bellatrix Lestrange spoke on the other side of the threshold.

"—failed us, sister. You know that means Snape is gone as well."

"Is it for certain, Bella?" came Narcissa's comforting voice.

"They have been gone far too long, Cissy. We have to assume the worst. That he has failed. You will be punished as well as Draco, should he escape. He really was our greatest mistake."

"Don't talk about him like that! If we tell the Dark Lord the truth, he would see Draco's true value. _It's_ here, Bella. In the vault under Lucius' desk. The ministry never found it, obviously. You could take it to him and explain—"

"No, Narcissa, it will only ensure his fate. But we can save you with it. Present both it and the boy to the Dark Lord and he will figure out our secret, even if we must remain silent, and he might spare you. It was your fool husband who came up with the damnable spell in the first place. Trying to right his own... inadequacies, always reflecting poorly on the rest of us. And then you can continue in his service. You want that don't you? You are still loyal to the cause!"

"Of course I am foolish girl," Narcissa replied. "We have to stop the pollution of our blood with that of muggles. That mudblood mother of his is responsible for tonight's failure."

Draco leaned closer as the conversation continued. 'Mudblood mother?' What were they talking about? Were maybe Snape or Greyback—

"I have always said it was not right for the boy to reflect on you. With this we can now prove it to our Lord. We should have shown it to him right after he returned to us. We must prostrate ourselves before him and beg forgiveness. The secret can die with the boy."

The room was quiet for a moment as Narcissa seemed to ponder over her sister's statement. Draco's eyes glanced back towards the study. He knew his father had various dark magics still locked away from the Ministry inspectors, both in the study and the hidden dungeons below the manor house, but he had no idea what it had to do with them.

He leaned the door open a bit more, waiting for his mother to defend him, explain how it wasn't his fault. If only Bellatrix would leave. Then he could save his mother and protect her. They could be free if only—

"You're right. We will take the book with us when we are summoned. It will give him a chance to live and perhaps even continue service for our Master in time. He could yet be worthy of the Malfoy name. I know him, Bella. He will take the Mark as we all have and fight against Dumbledore and the mudbloods and the real blood traitors. You will speak for him, won't you? Tell our Master how Draco has always been loyal to the cause."

"His fate is no longer in our hands," Bellatrix replied. "My only concern here is you. Your resolve for the cause of our Master is as strong as ever. I know this is true, sister. But your actions have been softened by the care for Draco and your love of Lucius. Come with me tonight and rejoin the fold in full. You know where your heart and future lies. For yourself and your husband, do this and though certainly punished, our Lord might forgive our terrible mistake."

"Very well," Narcissa answered.

Trying to be as quiet as possible Draco backed slowly away from the door. Struggling, he held back more tears. His weakness, he believed, had now cost him the love of his mother. He had failed in every way possible. As he turned and continued down the hall, he paused outside his father's study. The room had been strictly off limits for as far back as Draco could remember. But something was in that room that might redeem him in the eyes of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. It could be a way to account for his failure. If nothing else, the leverage could protect his mother. Entering, Draco noticed the room was covered in a fine layer of dust from a year without use. In any other circumstance, neither he nor his mother would enter this private chamber, but tonight was not a night for half-measures. Kneeling underneath the desk, Draco began casting fixes to his father's favorite concealment charms. It was the seventh one, the same that allowed access to the dungeons (a place Draco had only been permitted entrance to once in his life) that revealed a small latched compartment in the floor.

"_Alohomara_," he whispered as the latch clicked and unlocked. Pulling the door open, Draco revealed the contents. Some three feet deep, it held only one item that Narcissa and Bellatrix could be referring to: a large and heavy white book bound with two thick black ribbons. The leather cover seemed old and worn as if discarded in this safe and left untouched for many years. Lifting it up, the writing on the ribbons became visible. The first read, "Draco Abraxas Malfoy" and on the one beneath it several signatures in deep red ink covered the thicker ribbon. Turning it around, there were seven signatures all slightly aglow. The signatures of both his parents were there, his aunt Bellatrix and her husband Rodolphus along with his brother Rabastan. The final two signatures belonged to the senior Crabbe and Goyle.

Besides his name being most prominent, Draco felt an ownership of this book that he could not explain. For an item that he had never before thought of or new existed, it seemed more _his _than anyone else's. More than leverage, the book was his. Draco knew this without explanation, so it did not seem odd to him at all to slide the ribbons off. Stuffing them quickly in the pocket of his robes, Draco slowly opened the book. Before he could focus on any word or image within, a burning hot light filled the room and the world shifted back into its proper place.


	2. Home for the Holidays

**CHAPTER ONE: Home for the Holidays**

It was an unusually cold dawn for Privet Drive on one late June morning when Harry Potter woke up to a mighty rumbling coming from the guest bedroom. Getting out of his bed, he started his morning as he had spent the previous four since returning from Hogwarts early for summer vacation. He scanned the street, looking for any sign of the members of the Order of the Phoenix he assumed were watching him. At least he hoped they were.

Over previous summers, it had annoyed Harry to learn of Dumbledore's secret plans for his protection, but this summer it was a rare comfort. Lately he felt out of control of his own life. This summer was filtered with the good and bad. A tremendous amount of anticipation was swelling in his heart. The certain knowledge that when the protection spell expired on his birthday at the end of July he would be leaving and never have to return to stay with his overbearing Uncle Vernon, his snooty Aunt Petunia and his odious slug of a cousin, Dudley, ever again. But that eventual freedom came at a high price. Ordered by Dumbledore to stay there until his birthday, he would have little contact with his friends or his girlfriend. Sent home early due to the attack on Hogwarts by the Death Eaters, there was a chance the school would not reopen in the fall unless Professor Dumbledore could charm the Ministry of Magic and the board of school governors into allowing it.

His early arrival home had most definitely not gone over well. There was nobody waiting for him at the train station because the letter explaining the early dismissal was sent by owl and Vernon Dursley would never do anything as abnormal as read a letter delivered by an owl. Unable to use magic legally due to his age, Harry was still able to catch a ride home on the Knight Bus. He noted that the conductor was not Stan Shunpike, who was unjustly locked away in the wizard prison of Azkaban, but instead a very quiet portly wizard named Pemberly, who had a tendency to tremble. Thinking of the shaking wizard, Harry kicked the wall of his bedroom, stubbing his toe quite badly. He muffled a scream as the great rumbling in the house was briefly replaced with a grunt before resuming.

Harry released a slight sigh of relief that the rumbling was not halted entirely as he returned to his thoughts. Vernon would not want _her_ disturbed at all.

Too many wizards were afraid nowadays. Voldemort was on the loose recruiting and raising an army. They were killing and torturing at will, while he was stuck in the smallest bedroom at Number Four, Privet Drive under his headmaster's orders. The attack on the school had driven a fearful wizarding population to near madness according to _The Daily Prophet_ he picked up the day after the attack. The Minister for Magic, Rufus Scrimgeor, was on the cover, his picture talking animatedly at a podium under a headline that read "Minister Calls For Closing Hogwarts."

All this was happening while he, "The Chosen One", the Boy-Who-Lived, the one destined from before birth to battle Voldemort to the death, was stuck without his wand and alone in the home of his overbearing muggle relatives.

Vernon Dursley was so outraged at not only seeing his wife's nephew again, and nearly a week early at that, he grabbed Harry's wand before he had set two feet in the front door.

"No bloody magic!" he had bellowed. Despite Harry's constant protesting over the rest of the day Vernon would neither explain his actions nor return or even tell Harry where the wand was kept. Harry had tried explaining calmly that he might need it for protection. When that did not work, he screamed that it was his property and it had better be returned to him. Yet every last ounce of fear that the Dursleys had built up over the last six years in regards to magic was replaced by a fear of something far more deadly: Mrs. Katharine Francine Claremont Dursley.

If every trait that Harry failed to respect in the other Dursleys (anger, pride, narrow-mindedness, overbearing opinions, a complete and utter lack of tact or civility, gluttony, bigotry against the strange, _i.e. Harry, his late-parents and other magical people_, and a few other things Harry considered himself too much of a gentleman to list) were to be combined inside a single human being, it would be his Great-Aunt Katharine.

The first morning back Harry's trunk was missing. Vernon had hidden it away with his wand and threatened Harry that if his dearest Mummy were to have the slightest indication of Harry's "abnormality," then the wand would be broken and the trunk burned. As terrifying as the destruction of his wand would be (no wand works as well for a wizard as the first one that chooses him or her does), the trunk was utterly irreplaceable. Besides his Firebolt broom, which was expensive but available elsewhere, the trunk held everything Harry had left of his parents. His father's Invisibility Cloak was in there, as well as the scrapbook Hagrid had made for him, full of magical moving pictures of his parents, including the one from their wedding, which was the only remaining picture of his beloved godfather Sirius Black. Losing them would be unbearable. So Harry bit his tongue for the rest of the day.

When Katharine arrived that night, he carried her luggage up to the guest bedroom as she swooned over her "precious grandbaby Dudley" and commented none too quietly that it was a shame "the whelp" was still living with them. Katharine was nearly as large as the three younger Dursleys combined and was even crueler in her comments than her daughter, Marge. The following few days had been nearly unbearable for Harry. The closest he came to upsetting Uncle Vernon was excusing himself from the dinner table when Katharine referred to Harry's mother as "that strumpet whore, who couldn't find a fine husband as Petunia had." It was most fortunate Harry tuned out to mealtime conversations after that or he might have become the first wizard to attempt a wandless Killing Curse. Unfortunately, Harry still glanced at her now and then. He believed this woman wore more make-up than anyone he had ever met before and had a tendency to always have a bit of food dangling from her lower lip.

Katharine Claremont had been born in the 1930s to a well-off paper merchant in London. When he died in the Second Great muggle war of the century, Katharine's mother began running the business and taught her daughters their Golden Rule, "God helps those that help themselves." She used the phrase diligently to this very day. Should he ever be asked, Harry would swear to seeing his great-aunt come back from the poor box at church with more change than she arrived with. She married Samuel Dursley, a jolly and promising barrister, and within a decade had driven him to drink himself to death, while her own business flourished, opening regional distribution centers throughout the United Kingdom.

That morning, Harry once again did his very best to sit and not be seen or heard again.

"Well Vernon, dear," Katharine forced out in between bites. "If they're money's green take it, but Lord knows how cautious I was before getting into business with those types. I mean, for heavens sake, the Irish! Just a load of violent insurrectionists. And they're drunkards the lot of them. Didn't your sister marry some slug Irishman, Petunia dear?"

"He was a strange one, but I never took to learning his nationality," Petunia answered while enjoying a cup of tea. Of everyone in the family, next to Harry, Petunia looked the least at ease with Katharine's comments, but not enough to object.

"Probably Irish, not a good seed amongst them Vernon," Katharine continued. "But they need paper and, I'm sure, drill bits so we must endure them. After all, God helps those that help themselves."

Harry bit his tongue until he drew blood. He decided to avoid any possible punishment involved in telling them that both Harry and his father were actually Welsh and that he knew more than a few Irish students that were far more tolerable than the people he was surrounded by today.

After breakfast this particular morning, Uncle Vernon took his mother out shopping at the large plaza downtown. Harry took the rare opportunity to sneak about looking for his wand, but his aunt soon discovered him and sent him up to his room, promising that Vernon would hear about this if he tried it again. So it was this Saturday morning that Harry sat alone up in his room with only Hedwig for company. Harry removed the muzzle that Uncle Vernon insisted the bird wear whenever his mother was at the house under strict penalty of trunk burning. Hedwig pecked at his hand something fierce and floated over to the window and began tapping.

"I'm sorry," Harry said. He found he truly meant it as he wiped away tears. "I know it's horrid. This is no way for you to spend the holiday."

Harry took out a piece of paper and a pen. He found he truly missed the elegance of a quill. His writing was even more atrocious than usual with the unfamiliar device. He quickly wrote down a pair of letters to his best friend, Ron Weasley, and his sister, Ginny, and tossed Hedwig his last few owl treats in a bid to appease the proud bird.

_Dear Ron,_

_I am sorry for not writing yet, but a problem came up and I am unable to keep Hedwig here. Just the Dursleys being the Dursleys. I will most definitely be at the Burrow on July 31st, and look forward to the wedding later that week. I really hope your offer to spend the rest of the summer together is still good. Please take care of Hedwig and pass my regards onto Hermione and your family. Stay safe._

_Your friend,_

_Harry_

_Dear Ginny,_

_I am sorry for not writing you sooner and I miss you a lot. Please don't feel bad about not being able to talk much this summer. Just more problems with the Dursleys, but I'll be all right. I will see you on my birthday and very much hope you save more than one or two dances at the wedding for me. Congratulations on being a bridesmaid. I'm sure you'll be beautiful. Until then I am,_

_Yours,_

_Harry_

Considering he had never attempted to write a letter to a girlfriend before, Harry was quite proud of his effort. He knew Ginny would like it; she didn't need anything more special than Harry being himself. Harry attached these two letters to Hedwig's leg and opened the window with instructions to take them to the Burrow and stay there for the rest of the month. As the bird nodded and flew off a bit quicker than usual, Harry stuck his head out the window and took a deep breath of free air. He had spent almost no time outside this summer, sequestering himself alone in his room. But it was most fortunate that he stuck his head out the window at this moment. For this just happened to be the one where a soft, yet noticeable _pop_ could be heard near the front door.

Fearing the worst, Harry looked back and forth, expecting Order members to be charging at the intruder and protecting the unarmed Harry. Instead, Harry heard a familiar voice and the doorbell rang. Harry bolted out the door of his room and took the steps four at a time to beat Dudley to it. He recognized the voice and no Death Eater would be considerate enough to ring the bell before killing him. Whipping the door open Harry beheld the smiling face of Professor Albus Dumbledore. Quickly giving him a hug, Harry noticed the warped wooden cane he was using to support himself on his good left hand. He looked tired, but was smiling widely and returned Harry's embrace with a pat on the back from his bad hand.

"Well I must say, I am most pleased to see you so soon as well Harry," Dumbledore said. He then looked past Harry and continued, "Please forgive me for not calling ahead, but a most urgent matter came up I needed to discuss with you. May my companion and I enter, Petunia?"

"Of course," Harry answered before his aunt could voice her objection. She simply turned around and puttered into the kitchen, no doubt terrified of Vernon's reaction to the old wizard being there when he and his mother returned within the hour. As Dumbledore headed towards the sitting room, Harry took his first notice of the companion that the headmaster had mentioned. It was a young man just about six feet tall like Harry himself and dressed in a brown cloak with the hood up. His brown eyes were partially obscured by his messy hair. It had some red to it, but not nearly as much as Ron or any of the Weasleys. It was more of an auburn-brown. The stranger's complexion was slightly pale, but not overly so. Harry began to think how this person looked somewhat like—.

His evaluation was interrupted as the boy pulled his hood higher and followed Dumbledore into the sitting room. Albus gingerly planted himself on the sofa. The boy set down the large white book he had been clutching desperately to his side on the table and sat down when the headmaster looked to him and said, "Why don't you join Dudley and his mother in the kitchen while I speak to Harry? Though they don't look too similar, Petunia was Lily Potter's sister in case you were wondering."

The mysterious stranger took a couple nervous steps towards the door, before quickly turning on his heel and retrieving his book. Clutching it to his chest, he nodded and mumbled something at Dumbledore before leaving. Looking after him, Harry heard his aunt gasp in the other room before walking quickly past the sitting room doorway (pushing her son ahead of her) and out the front door where he heard her tell Dudley to sit down on the front stoop. Harry then sat down in the chair opposite Dumbledore and waited for him to speak. Dumbledore conjured himself some tea and offered Harry a cup. The older man seemed to want to put off what he was about to say as long as he could.

"Harry," he eventually began, "I know in the past I have made mistakes in hiding truths about your past from you. Concealing the truth, while sometimes necessary, is also what made me responsible for Sirius' death—"

Harry started to raise his head to object, but silenced as the professor raised his wounded right hand to halt him. He simply continued speaking, "Regardless of that I have come here today to reveal another truth to you. One that was hidden from me until just last night and one that I suspect… rather I hope, will give you another great ally in defeating Voldemort. It is my desire that this individual will become as loyal a compatriot as Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger. And someone who will, like them, accompany you on quests that I am no longer able to, due to my injuries."

"Sir," Harry set down his tea and looked his favorite professor in his eyes. He noted the near constant sparkle in them was greatly lessened since the night they failed to recover a Horcrux. "Are—Are you---"

"Just not my former strength, though I still know a thing or two," he smiled and sipped his tea. "I unfortunately will be little help in a direct battle with Voldemort, but I am helping in other ways."

"How sir?"

Harry immediately regretted saying it. It came out sounding like an attack that he didn't think Dumbledore was doing his part, which was anything but the truth; certainly not how he felt.

"Well, I suppose if I am here talking about the truth, you deserve specifics. Firstly, I wanted to let you know in regards to the locket we found, I recognized the handwriting of the note as Regulus Black, Sirius' brother. He found himself in trouble more often than Sirius himself during his school days, he was of course the preferred son of that family. Apparently there was a bit of his brother to him since he betrayed his master to his own death, but not before taking one of the Horcruxes, a seventh of Tom Riddle's soul. It turns out all these last 20 years it resided safely in—"

"The House of Black. My house."

"Very good Harry," Dumbledore corrected with a smile. "Unfortunately, I learned from your house elf Kreacher it was removed from its home by our good friend Mundungus as he was stealing valuables that Sirius had left to you."

"But then he must know where it is. We have to talk to him. We have to go to Azkaban."

"Most definitely Harry, however that is not easily done, even more-so since the Dementors abandoned it. The Minister is not very receptive for my requests to visit, but I believe I will convince him of it. We are meeting in just another week about it and other matters."

Harry took another drink of tea. He could hear Dumbledore's companion pacing on the tiles of the kitchen floor, but turned his attention back to the man in front of him.

"Are you meeting about Hogwarts, Professor?"

"Yes, I fear as much as we are in a battle against Voldemort for our very lives that we must battle those who should be aiding us for other things we hold just as dear. I will not let Hogwarts fail. Don't worry Harry. My greatest desire, just as much as victory is that we pass through to this victory with something to pass on to those that come after us. Even if I myself do not survive this war, it is my wish that Hogwarts lives on. So it may pass its' magic onto more young witches and wizards like yourself, even unto future generations."

"I do too, sir. I think it will, that is, Hogwarts will stay open."

"Of course Harry. Some things in this world are temporary and fleeting. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is most certainly not. Hogwarts is meant to continue on and last beyond my days and even yours. Some things are meant to last."

Dumbledore refilled his cup with a tap from his wand and took another long drink. Harry noted that he seemed paler, more tired than he usually was. But still it was a great improvement over the night they returned from the cave. Eventually, he decided Dumbledore would continue putting off explaining things to him, so he took the initiative and spoke up himself, saying, "Professor, sir, is that Malfoy in the kitchen?"

"What makes you think that Harry?" Dumbledore asked as his smile widened, seemingly indicating the guess was correct.

"Well, I only caught a glimpse, but it was basically him. His eyes and hair are different and he isn't quite as pale. My guess would be that a concealment charm was involved."

"You would be correct in that assumption Harry. Though not as you think."

"And I suppose he was the ally you were talking about, that's why you had us cover up the fact that he let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts or that he was trying to murder you. That he nearly killed—"

"I know that was hard for you Harry, but—"

"But if he's in Azkaban for committing Unforgivable Curses and nearly murdering my best friend and Katie Bell and you, the rest of the wizarding world, even the rest of the Order, wouldn't exactly welcome him with open arms. Would they, Professor?"

Harry found he was now standing and the house was eerily silent. There were no more tapping steps in the kitchen. There were no more whispers on the porch. He found he was breathing too fast and attempted to calm himself and sit down.

"I would remind you that Draco is on our side now and so we must be willing to accept that he has changed. He must come to live with all the choices of his life, including those that led him to our side in this war. We must have faith in him like—"

"Like Snape," Harry completed the sentence without looking up.

"Yes, Harry, like Professor Snape, who betrayed Voldemort because of his part in the harm done to Lily Potter, a girl he found against his own beliefs he cared about. Oh yes, Harry, Snape did care for your mother in his own way, even if the feelings were never admitted even to himself and not returned. In all my many years as his teacher, colleague and friend, Professor Snape would never forgive himself for being so easily led to the service of Riddle. That he had betrayed a young woman who had never done less than stand up for him, even to the love of her life is a mark far more painful than Voldemort's. I wish you could have been his ally as I was, Harry. The only way to trust is completely, or it is something different entirely. As much as he wanted to protect the bits of your mother he saw in you, he never could forgive the pieces of your father. And just as his care for others stopped him from his dark path... just as Lily saved you with her love, I believe it will be her everlasting love and James' that saves Draco."

Harry now stared at Dumbledore with his mouth hanging open. How would his mother's love help Malfoy? Had Snape loved Lily? Did she know? Did James? Chuckling briefly at Harry's appearance, Dumbledore raised his voice and called out for Draco to come join them. As he stepped into the sitting room, Draco had already pulled back the hood. He walked over and sat in a chair to Harry's right and held his book on his lap.

"Perhaps the direct approach is the best. The night of the attack I sent Draco home to collect his possessions and his mother, who I had believed loved her son enough to leave the service of Voldemort with him. I regret that I was incorrect. Draco managed to overhear her plotting with her sister, Bellatrix, and only just managed to escape."

Harry found more than a year later, he still winced at the name of the woman he had watched murder Sirius. Draco noticed that and catalogued the reaction. It seemed he was noticing things more readily and with clearer eyes these last few days. He supposed it had something to do with his eyes being opened, literally.

"When Hagrid, Remus and Tonks arrived that morning to collect them, they were attacked and the Black sisters escaped to continue in service to their Lord Voldemort. Draco managed to find his way alone to Hogwarts a few days later without being noticed or discovered by our enemies with a book that explained much about Mrs. Malfoy's unexpected actions."

Harry's eyes flashed back to the large white book, and then back to Dumbledore, who lifted from his own cloak two pieces of cloth with writing in them. As Harry examined the names on them, he looked up at Dumbledore and wondered if this was supposed to answer his questions. Noticing this, Dumbledore continued, "These people took something important to a person and bound it in these ribbons, signed in blood, to perform an ancient piece of Dark Magic known as the Capito Charm. A distant modification of the Fidelius Charm, it binds with it all knowledge, memories and evidence of a person's existence and replaces it with those of another. Given how hard it is for the spell to reach out and cover both memories and evidence of a person's existence it is especially difficult to cast effectively. By changing his appearance as little as possible to have the traits of a Malfoy, making him nearly the same age and even keeping his first name, they made the spell all the more stronger. The less of the truth they had to destroy the more certain its success would be. The blood oath prevents the casters, of which there must be seven, from explaining the truth of a person's identity to anyone. Show him, Draco."

"I don't—fine."

Draco looked at Dumbledore and then to Harry before he opened the book. Harry couldn't see much of it, as Malfoy was leaning over it and looking for a certain page. The book seemed to be in actuality a thick photo album. He seemed to find what he was looking for and set it on the table, turning it towards Harry, who leaned forward since Draco would not let go of the book entirely. There were moving wizard pictures and the page he was looking at was of a couple. His parents; and they were each smiling widely and holding a small bundle, a pair of babies. In elegant scripting on a piece of parchment beneath the photograph read: _James, Lily, Harry and Draco: the Potters_.

Harry's eyes went white for a second he stood, staggering back away from the table. He stared disbelievingly at the book, then Professor Dumbledore, then finally to Malfoy… Draco, who would not raise his eyes. His hair wasn't slicked back and white-blond anymore. It was a familiar shade of reddish-brown. It was hung loosely, falling over his eyes and his skin tone was a bit darker and healthier. He reminded Harry of Lily. Except the eyes, which were not emerald green, like Harry and his mother or light grey as they had once been. They were brown. They were James Potter's eyes.

"I don't believe it," Harry said, closing and opening his eyes. "It's like I said before. He's using a concealment charm and that—that book cast a spell on us, to trick us."

"That's what I said," Draco finally spoke as he picked up the book and began looking at the picture. "But things I heard Bellatrix and my moth—that I heard them talking about. The fact that the face in the mirror the last four days hasn't been my own and Dumbledore remembering when he saw the book all seems to add up. I don't want it to be true either. I mean I'm a Malfoy. I'm not a bloody Potter! Not some half-blood."

Raising his voice slightly, Dumbledore spoke to them both, "Desire has little to do with it. This is the truth. You are Harry James and Draco Patrick Potter and you are twin brothers. Your parents loved you both and feared that you both would be targets to Voldemort after he learned of a prophesy given to me by Professor Trelawney from his spy Severus Snape. You were, all of you, betrayed by Peter Pettigrew and discovered by Voldemort. The only questions left are how that night Harry ended marked and destined to battle his parents' murderer to the death and Draco came to be captured by that murderer's followers and hidden to be raised as an enemy to his brother. That truth only the two of you together can discover for certain. You can finally and definitively see what happened to the Potters on that dark night."

Both Harry and Draco turned and looked at Dumbledore after his declaration. Apparently, this was a new revelation for both of them. Harry was the one who spoke up and asked, "How?"

Nodding towards Draco, Dumbledore explained, "The book was taken for the spell because it is not only the location of a majority of the evidence of Draco's existence as a Potter, but it is a very powerful magic item. Even now, I can feel the magic radiating off of it. Your parents left it so the two of you could experience the past in a way no other can. Together you can journey back into the memories associated with these pictures as if preserved in a pensieve. Memories that survive the person who experienced them is no easy feat of magic. Even the memories of a pensieve will float away when its creator dies and takes the binding magic of the cauldron with them. And the flash before your eyes Harry was the veil being lifted. Anyone who looks at or spends a bit of time around the book will have his or her memories restored. Although in your case, Harry, you were so young there are none to reclaim, at least outside of your dreams. I leave it to both of you when others learn the truth, although those closest to your family will begin to regain their memories on their own in the coming weeks. The truth has been released and cannot be locked again. The only ones who have as of yet learned Draco's true identity are in this room. But your Aunt Petunia will most likely experience the return of her proper memories within a few hours even being in the same house as the book, or in her case just outside the house."

"A few hours?" Harry asked. "How long are you staying? If Uncle Vernon sees you here with his mother… Professor, he threatened to break my wand."

"Not to worry about that Harry. I sadly have to return to Hogwarts shortly and continue my search for information concerning the remaining Horcruxes," Dumbledore said. "But Draco will be here to help keep your Uncle's actions respectable."

"What!" Harry yelled.

"Once again not my idea Potter," Draco added.

"Well, you will need him and the book to discover what truly happened to your family," Dumbledore said, rising. "The only people who know he is here are myself, Hagrid and Professor McGonagall. We feel you will both be safest in each other's company until the start of the school year."

"But—But I'm leaving for the Burrow for Bill and Fleur's wedding on my birthday," Harry explained. "You can't expect him to come along?"

"Thanks a bunch, Potter. Like I'd want to go slumming with you at Weasel's poor excuse for a hovel."

Tapping his cane against the coffee table, Dumbledore spoke in a voice that left no room for interpretation to his intents or orders. "That is quite enough of that talk, Draco. You will, of course, go to the wedding and conduct yourself with all the manners expected of any Hogwarts student. Most of the Order is attending the ceremony and we could not guarantee your safety anywhere else at that time. And rest assured that the servants of Voldemort hold you as a target second only to members of the Order for betraying them at Hogwarts. And soon more than any save Harry when Voldemort recovers his memories of your true identity. More importantly, you BOTH," he stressed nodding towards Harry, "Are the only family the other has in the wizarding world. The great rift between the two of you may seem defined and insurmountable, but it was only a lie that caused the rift in the first place. Despite what you both think, your natural place is by the other's side. I believe you will both remember and come to depend on that before the end."

Removing a note from his cloak and placing it on the table, Dumbledore collected the two ribbons and said, "I will see you both in a few weeks time at the Burrow. This note will explain everything to your aunt once she decides to join you inside. Harry, I have already explained everything we know about Voldemort's plans to Draco. He is as well-informed as Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger, so perhaps you two can discuss the situation together. And let me ask you both to make an effort this holiday to accept each other as allies if nothing else. I look forward to seeing you both shortly."

With a nearly silent _pop_, Professor Dumbledore disappeared and a large trunk and cage with an eagle owl appeared in the hallway. Neither boy spoke for several minutes. Eventually Harry decided to sit down in the chair opposite Draco and began staring at him. Harry studied the features that seemed so familiar from the picture of his mother and so unusual in the person of Draco Malfoy. It was still basically Draco's face. Not much had changed besides his eyes and hair, but the lowered head and quiet attitude seemed to reflect a different side to Draco. Harry had seen it in the mirror of the bathroom at Hogwarts before they nearly killed one another.

He couldn't trust him. This was the man who nearly killed his best friend, who tried to kill Dumbledore and who had used Unforgivable Curses. Then Harry remembered himself in the Ministry casting the Cruciatus Curse at Bellatrix after she murdered Sirius. And of course, by destiny and desire, he would at least attempt to cast one Killing Curse in his final battle with Voldemort.

Then Harry thought about his godfather. He was probably Draco's as well. He would have loved them both the same and wanted to take care of them both. But he died never getting to remember Draco.

For about fifteen minutes, he started thinking about the 'what ifs' of their lives. If Dumbledore was telling them the truth, what would have happened if his… if their parents had lived. They would have grown up together. Or if they still died, but Hagrid brought them both to Privet Drive. He wouldn't have been alone. But there were still only questions. Would Draco still hate muggleborns, even if his mother was one? Would he be in Slytherin or Gryffindor? Would they have the same friends? Maybe they would be end up like Sirius and his own brother, on opposite sides of a war. Of course, now there was the immediate concern of what to do with him.

As if on cue, Harry heard Uncle Vernon walking up the front yard asking Petunia and Dudley what they were doing on the lawn. The front door slammed open as he bellowed, "What have you done now?"

Turning into the sitting room, Vernon's face had apparently skipped turning red and proceeded directly to a very deep purple, resembling a puffy, hairy grape. "Whatever you did, BOY, you had better undo before my mummy dearest gets up the walk. Dudley is helping her out of the car now and I won't have you embarrassing me in fron—"

It was now Vernon noticed the young man sitting across from Harry, wearing of all things, a cloak. Then he turned his head towards the hallway and saw his luggage.

"What is this thing doing here?" he asked pointing a stubby finger at Draco. "What is it doing here with a trunk and AN OWL!"

Wondering why he was being forced put up with all this abuse for none other than his most hated rival, Harry answered curtly, "This is Draco. He's staying with us."

"Absolutely not, you are both leaving here right this instant," Vernon replied. "I swear I will never forgive the freakishness you have brought into my house. I am going to smash that wand into a million little pieces and—"

"_Silencio_."

Vernon continued screaming at them, but Draco's spell drowned out the volume.

"Wait, if we're twins, than you're still 16. What if the Ministry finds out you were performing magic?" Harry asked, though silently grateful.

Shrugging, Draco replied, "Well I'm a Malfoy and now 17 as far as the Ministry of Magic is concerned and can do whatever he wants as long as it doesn't expose the wizarding world any more than it already is."

Vernon continued moving his mouth and shaking his hand very animatedly, but thankfully all that was heard was Petunia talking to Katharine on the front path. Harry nodded at Draco and said, "Thanks, but this will only make it worse. Let's get your trunk upstairs. You'll have to share a room with me or Dudley."

"Bad enough I have to stay in one of the rooms in this muggle-infested puny house, but I don't even have my own room?!"

Walking past a purple-faced Vernon, Draco levitated his trunk and picked up his owl cage. He turned and asked Harry, "Is _Dudley_ anything like him?" Harry nodded. "Then, and never tell anyone I said this or I'll hex you into oblivion, but I'll stay in your room."

Harry led the way up the stairs and Draco asked him, "How do you put up with these insufferable muggles every summer?"

"They're my penance for not having to see you. Now let Vernon free or we'll never hear the end of it, Malfoy."

Draco stopped at the name, as Harry and his trunk continued moving upward. Glancing in a mirror to his right, he remembered that this face didn't adopt his usual expressionless mask as easily as it had a week ago. Without a word, Draco started walking upstairs again and countered the spell on Vernon, who let out a monstrous scream just as his mother walked through the front door.

**DISCLAIMER: I do not own Harry Potter.**

**A/N: Thank you for reading. I look forward to all positive and constructive criticism on my first Harry Potter FF.**


	3. Getting to Know You

**CHAPTER TWO: Getting To Know You**

If Harry's first four days at Privet Drive were agonizingly painful and slow, the next several would provide no relief. The next week was filled with no startling revelations from the mysterious Potter photo album and no word from Dumbledore. No letter from Ginny, Ron or Hermione; in fact no contact with anyone from the wizarding world at all. There wasn't even a decent argument to entertain him. Not that he wanted Uncle Vernon to get mad and destroy his wand and trunk. But he thought that if anything would get a rise out of his wizard-hating relatives, it would be the great muggle-hater Draco Malfoy. But Draco was completely content to ignore and be ignored by the Dursleys. Meals were quiet except for the ramblings of Great-Aunt Katharine, who still liked proclaiming Petunia's virtues and insulting Harry's mother. Halfway through the first dinner with Draco, he muttered charms to keep himself or Harry from understanding what she was saying. Her normal deep, growling voice now sounded like ocean waves. A couple of nights later, Harry nearly nodded off at the table thanks to the soothing sounds. Draco smirked at Harry's drooping head. It was the most interaction they had for the first week despite sharing a home and a room.

It was also nice to have someone who could cast a silencing charm on Great-Aunt Katharine's bedroom at night to keep the walls from shaking. But it was just damned unnerving to be trapped in the same house as Draco, who could have passed for a mute if an observer didn't know him. Here sat one of the weakest boys he had ever met and one of the biggest whiners in the history of Hogwarts. But now he seemed to be the most contemplative. Draco had yet to figure out any way to speak to Harry without sounding like… a Malfoy. But he definitely wasn't a Potter either. So here he remained in between, stuck in the first indecisive moments of his life. For the first time in his life, there were… questions. How much of his life, his beliefs, himself… were shadows and deceptions? All that was left of that ironclad absolute Malfoy certainty was fear and doubt.

Harry's days outside of his room consisted of cleaning for Aunt Petunia, waiting on Katharine and being beaten up by Dudley, who found he greatly preferred Harry without his wand. The giant of a 17-year old easily eclipsed even Ron's height and he soon realized that the other Potter wizard did not come to aid Harry if he was in trouble. With that bit of knowledge, he overcame some early hesitancy to practice his school boxing skills on his cousin. So Harry ended up spending more time in his room with Draco. An evil git was better than black eye and bruised ribs.

His apparent twin brother had transfigured some sheets into a spare bed the first night and quickly claimed ownership of Harry's desk. Rather than the annoying, talkative boy he remembered as Draco Malfoy, Harry found himself sharing a room with a very quiet and introspective Draco Potter. Truthfully, he never spoke to or acknowledged Harry. He spent all his time except meal times in the room. His only three activities appeared to be re-reading last year's schoolbooks and _The Daily Prophet_, writing in a black leather journal and looking through the photo album.

If there was one truly annoying thing about Draco that stood out over all others, it was his over-possessiveness of something that by rights belonged to Harry as well. But except for the first, brief look at the sitting room table, Harry had not been offered a chance to further inspect the photo album. Draco never had it more than an arm's length away except when he left for meals, during which times he made sure he was the last one out of the room and cast a locking charm on the door. He supposed Draco wanted to try and make the book's memories work for him without involving Harry. It would be one more thing to hold over his head. _Damn git!_

A week after Draco's arrival, the day before Katharine was returning to her home in Slough, Harry finally decided he had enough of the silent treatment. He had been reading one the latest copies of the_ Prophet_ that had been delivered to Draco that morning. Apparently, the Death Eaters had been unusually quiet this week, perhaps recovering from their failure and losses at Hogwarts. Glancing up, he noticed Draco at the desk as usual with a quill out and his full attention on the journal in front of him. Clearing his throat didn't earn a response, so Harry spoke up, "So, what are you doing?"

"It's called writing, Scarhead," Draco said without looking up. "You might have seen the mudblood Granger doing it once or twice."

"Don't call her that! If you can't be civil just shut up, Malfoy!"

"Bloody hell, stop calling me that you jackass!" Draco yelled, turning away from his writing.

"Fine, _Draco_."

Facing his book again, Draco muttered, "I preferred ferret." He then broke into his old drawl, "Just ask the question you want to ask, these brotherly conversations are weighing on me something fierce, Potter."

"I want to look at the photo album, mine is locked away in my trunk."

"Also, yours can't transport you into the past," Draco retorted with a sneer. "But I have been trying and I suppose Dumbledore was right, it only works for both of us."

Draco didn't even try to deny he had been trying to use the book alone, for himself. He was still a Slytherin after all. He set down his quill, closed and locked his journal. He picked up the photo album and turned his chair to face Harry. Harry quickly set down his newspaper and scooted to the edge of the bed. Trying not to sound too eager, Harry asked, "How does it work?"

"Just a charm we have to say when touching a page together, the instructions are up front. Apparently your—I mean our mother was quite good at charms. Feel like starting at the beginning?" Draco asked opening the book to the first page. Harry looked down and saw moving photos of his parents in muggle cloths and Hogwarts robes. They must have been taken when they were 11 at the start of their first year, judging by the young faces. Tentatively, Harry reached out and touched the page.

"Now we won't actually go into the photos or even the time they were taken, just strong memories that they associated with the photos. Hence we can hope a page near the end will be imbedded with memories of… that night. Really ingenious contraption, it would probably keep working even now, if we added photos of our own to the book." Draco touched Harry's hand and quickly explained, "It's in the instructions. We have to be touching for it to work. Apparently, she didn't think we'd hate each other as much as we do. _Cieo_."

Unlike rolling down into a pensieve, using the photo album was like the world of the photo spilling off of the page and painting itself over your current surroundings. The four walls of their tiny bedroom were over-run with green open fields. Once the blue sky drew itself over the stark white ceiling, the room was filled with a bright flash of white light.

Blinking a few times, Harry now found him surrounded by dozens of wizarding families playing with their children. He was in a park, watching children obviously too young to attend Hogwarts racing around on brooms that only flew a few feet off of the ground. He had seen similar brooms at the Quidditch World Cup before fourth year. Harry moved past one couple sitting together on a bench watching their baby bouncing up and down in the air in front of them, giggling up a storm.

"Narcissa used to take me to a place like this," Draco said as Harry startled and turned his head to face him. Draco had a distant look on his face, as if caught in a memory of his own. "She stopped when I was eight. She really didn't like being around many other people with me. Must have been a guilty conscience."

Harry considered putting his hand on Draco's shoulder, but thought better of it and instead turned all the way around and mused, "I suppose our father must be here somewhere. Our mother was a muggle-born witch. You knew that, right?"

Draco simply nodded and then pointed behind Harry. A discussion on his feelings on his muggleborn mother, or his own status as a technical half-blood, wasn't a conversation Draco desired. Ahead of them, racing around on a broom far faster than the other children, was a boy of eleven that looked almost completely like a younger Harry, except for his brown eyes. The boy seemed like a natural on the little broom, racing around with one hand on it, while the other was continually pushing too large glasses back up the bridge of his nose. Young Mister Potter leaned forward and whispered to his broom and without warning began sailing a couple dozen feet higher than the other children and even faster than before.

"James Francis Potter!" A short woman with a head of long grey-streaked raven black hair off to Harry's left screamed. "You get down here this instant or else no Hogwarts for you!"

James responded with a grin and a wave that nearly let his glasses slide off his nose again. Pushing them back, he expertly flew down, weaving around other children and coming to a hovering stop just out of his mother's reach.

"Now, James," the woman said in a tone that left no room for argument. "You aren't in trouble, I was just worried."

Seemingly appeased, the boy slid a bit closer to his mother, who with the speed of a World Champion Quidditch player zipped her hand out and grabbed James by the scruff of his light spring jacket, yanking him off the broom. She held him up in the air and examined him with a fierce grimace on her face.

"You know just because you can do magic, doesn't mean you should Jimmy. You may have gotten your letter this morning, but Hogwarts doesn't tolerate foolish boys."

"But I'm a natural, Mom. I just wanted to try to go faster. I'm going to be the greatest Chaser in Hogwarts history and be a right genius of a wizard. They'll love me."

"No, they'll teach you to be a good, responsible wizard," his mother answered holding her stern face tight. "Loving you is my job."

"Well, you're probably the best mother in the world then, I figure," James replied with a cheeky smile. A moment later, his mother's grimace dissolved into a smile and she pulled her son into a tight hug.

"Alright, Mr. Lady-Charmer Potter, let's go visit your father at the office, okay?"

James replied by furiously nodding his head. His mother had no sooner set him down then he started leading them away from the park and toward the dirt road that led to a village in the distance. Almost to the street, he quickly grabbed his mother's wand and flipped it back at his broom, which obediently zipped to his side. His mother looked down at him furious, as he handed back her wand and grinned saying, "What, Mom? Don't want to leave my new and improved broom lying around."

Harry and Draco began jogging after them, when the world around them froze. Walking around the immobilized people Harry took a good look at his grandmother. There weren't any pictures of her in his scrapbook. She must have died along with her husband before the wedding of his parents. He did remember hearing that they had James late in life. They never got to see him finish growing up, see him get married. See the birth of her grandson… grandsons. She reminded him of Mrs. Weasley with her stern outlook, but the woman had a smile exactly like her son's. Harry supposed since he looked like James, he had it as well.

"So, I suppose that's where I inherited all those fabulous Quidditch skills," Draco remarked while lifting himself off the ground by holding a small girl's broom frozen just a foot over his head. "I always knew Lucius was dreadful as a student."

"Well, Dad was a Chaser, not a Seeker like us," Harry answered. "And I think I must have gotten a little more skill since I always beat you."

Just as Harry was breaking into a grin, the world flashed white and he was now standing just behind Draco outside a small two-story house with vinyl siding. The cars in the driveway gave away that it was a muggle neighborhood. Walking around Draco, Harry heard the sound of a young girl's voice coming from the backyard. The two young wizards walked around the building to see a pair of girls standing near a willow tree. A smaller pretty girl with auburn hair was facing away from them with her legs on either side of a small pink bicycle, while a somewhat taller blond-haired girl was standing under the tree tossing pebbles up into the branches.

"Leave it alone, Petunia," the smaller girl pleaded. "It's so pretty."

Petunia chucked another stone up in the tree. Harry and Draco walked nearly underneath the tree and saw an owl perched in it, hooting indignantly at the blond girl. As Petunia brought back her arm to throw another stone, the smaller girl leapt off of her bike and grabbed her sister's arm. Harry found himself staring into emerald eyes that matched his perfectly. He noted her hair and glanced quickly at Draco's new hair color before turning his attention back to the girl.

"Please, Lily, look at the thing," Petunia said, motioning up at the grey old owl. "It has a piece of paper wrapped around its leg and it won't stop hooting. What would the neighbors say?"

As Petunia shook off her sister, she began to hurl the stone, but Lily zipped her hand in quickly and pulled the stone from her sister's hand and answered, "They'll probably not notice at all, but if they do, then they'll say, 'My, what a remarkable owl you found, Miss Evans.'"

Petunia huffed at her sister and ran in the house, exclaiming how she'd get their father to shoo the bird away. Lily turned her attention back to the bird in the tree and smiled at it. The owl hooted more affectionately than before and hopped onto a lower branch.

"Aren't you a cheeky fellow?" Lily said with a wide grin. She reached into her blue overall's front pocket and pulled out a piece of chocolate. Breaking off a piece and putting it on the ground, she sat down with her legs crossed a foot back from the candy. She began eating the rest of it as the bird hopped from branch to branch working its way down. It finally flapped its wings widely and sailed down in front of Lily and pecked at the chocolate. Another hoot was followed by Lily giggling at the bird and accidentally smearing chocolate across her face. The bird offered the letter tied to its foot towards Lily and nodded, beckoning her to take it.

"For me?" Lily asked, as she took the letter and set the rest of the chocolate down for the owl to eat. Licking her fingers clean, Lily opened the letter and said, "Well, let's see what you've got for me Mr. Owly. Um-hum…

"_Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry._

_Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore_

_(Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Warlock Member of Wizengamot)_

_Dear Ms. Evans,_

_We are pleased to inform you that…"_

As Lily continued reading her letter to herself, she began twirling her hair in her fingers. She looked confused and finished the first page, turning to the next one that would list the books she would need for first year. Harry had always wondered how a fully muggle family would react to receiving a Hogwarts letter. To Harry's surprise there was a third page. Draco noticed this as well and leaned over behind her to read it.

"It must only go to muggles," Draco said. "It explains what wizards and witches are, how to convert money and purchase school supplies in Diagon Alley."

"Makes sense," Harry added. "But I thought they were supposed to send a witch or wizard to explain everything. Dumbledore went to explain it to Tom Riddle. When Hagrid delivered my letter to me, I had no idea what to do or where to go. I would have been stuck with the Dursleys forever if not for his help."

Draco actually shuttered a bit at the very thought of spending one's life with such odious muggles. He stepped back as Lily reread the first page and her face broke into a wide smile.

"I'm a witch!" she screamed, hopping up and down scaring the old owl back up into the tree.

"Mum! Petunia! I'm a witch!" she yelled and began running back into the house. She turned around and smiled at the owl, adding, "Thank you, very, very much!"

Harry thought it was over, but followed Draco who walked through the screened door and into the Evans kitchen. Petunia was sitting on a leather chair eating a sandwich and glancing maliciously at her little sister. Lily was still hopping up and down, explaining in a most definitive tone that she was a witch and she had received a letter to prove it. She handed it to a very tall woman with dirty blond hair running down off her shoulders.

"Mom, she's such a fibber," Petunia said with her eyes glued to her sandwich. "We really shouldn't indulge her. People will think she's a freak."

"I am not a freak!" Lily yelled. "There are probably plenty of witches in the world and wizards too. See we have our own school to learn magic. Mr. Dumbledore and Miss McGonagall say so right here."

Lilly stood on her tip-toes so she could reach up and tap the bottom of the letter that bore the signature of Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress. Mrs. Evans shook her head disbelievingly and handed the papers back to Lily, saying, "Somebody's just playing a mean joke on you, Lily. There's no such thing as magic."

"Yes there is," Lily demanded. "It explains how sometimes things, you know, happen around me. Remember how Karen Canterbury pushed me off the swings and she flew and was stuck on top of them. I must have done it. Oh, I hope they aren't mad at me. I didn't mean to make her cry. You believe me, right Mum?"

Mrs. Evans leaned down and kissed her daughter's forehead and in a comforting tone said, "Darling, I know you would never hurt anyone on purpose. And I think it would be perfectly lovely to have a witch in the family, but I really don't think…"

"Of course, magic is real," Lily began rereading the letter and continued at a frantic pace. "We can just go to this Diagon Alley place on Saturday. If it isn't real, I'll never, ever, never ask for anything ever again and I'll go to the McMurphy Academy with Petunia. But if it is real, which it is, then we can get my school supplies. I can start reading my books early so I'm not behind. And it says I can have a pet. A cat would be lovely, but I want an old grey owl like the one that brought my letter. He was awful cheeky, Mum, but you'd like him even if he didn't really care for Petunia. And a wand, I can't imagine being the only witch without one. And a cauldron, looks like a small one, but I suppose they'll get bigger as I grow up. Someday I can have a giant one like the three sisters in Macbeth. I can go, right Mum? Please! Please can I go! I'm sure Daddy will say its okay if you do. I really, really want to go. You know, if it's real."

Mrs. Evans fretted with her apron and stared at her beaming daughter with a sympathetic smile. Lily stuck out her bottom lip and began bouncing on the balls of her feet. She shut her eyes tight and started whispering, "please, mummy, please, please."

"Well," Mrs. Evans began tentatively as her daughter's eyes bolted open. "I suppose we can go and see if it's real. I just don't want your hopes to get up too high. Though it looks like they are already as high as can be. We'll go see on Saturday. Do you want to come along, Petunia dear?"

Petunia at this gave a horrified expression that Harry had seen whenever the subject of magic or his mother was mentioned. Just then there was a tapping at the back door and sure enough with the owl perched on her shoulder stood a younger version of Minerva McGonagall. She was wearing a terribly mis-matched blazer and skirt. She began, "Excuse me, ma'am. I believe we have had a slight mix up here. I was meant to deliver a letter to… ah you have it already."

The world froze again and Harry sat next to his aunt, noting how comical the expression looked when frozen in place. Draco hopped up on the counter and gazed at a jubilant Lily.

"You know she called Mum a freak when I met Hagrid for the first time and he told me I was a wizard," Harry said looking at his aunt's face. Draco kept staring at Lily and didn't acknowledge that he had heard Harry. Finally, just before the world burned white again, Harry thought he heard him say, "She's not at all like Narcissa."

This time they appeared in very familiar surroundings standing at the front of the Great Hall at Hogwarts in the middle of a feast. The students were all talking animatedly at the four House tables and the teachers, including a McGonagall that didn't look a day over 30 years old, were quietly talking while eating their dinner. Hagrid was over in the corner sitting as tall as ever, though his hair was not quite as long in the beard as Harry remembered it. Sitting in the center of the table smiling warmly as he nibbled on a piece of cake, Dumbledore looked almost the same as always. Of course his right hand bore none of the markings from his mysterious injury of the previous summer.

"He doesn't look any younger," Harry commented. "I mean McGonagall must have been the youngest Deputy Headmistress in the school's history. Even Hagrid looks different, but Dumbledore is the same."

As he wandered toward the Slytherin table, Draco spoke loudly above the other voices, "Well, I suppose once you pass 120, the years sort of just fade together. I think this is the opening year feast."

A bit later, Harry turned as he heard Draco's laughter echo through the hall. Turning around he saw Draco standing across from a small dark haired boy with greasy hair, looking uneasily at the other tables. His eyes darted then nervously around his own table, before peering down at his plate and continuing with his meal.

"Well, I once saw Snape in a pensieve, but it's still hard to imagine him as a little kid," Harry said jogging over to Draco's side. Nodding his head in the other direction, he continued, "Come on, let's go find them. They were both in Gryffindor."

"Figures," Draco replied with a noticeable bitter taste in his mouth.

"Well," said Harry, leading the way, "I suppose if you weren't taken by the Malfoys, or if Mum and Dad lived, then you might have ended up there too."

Despite Draco's loud guffaw, Harry went on without interruption, "I can't really imagine it either, but I suppose we would have gotten into even more trouble with you around. Maybe no murder attempts, but enough to do the Marauder name proud, sort of a second generation of them."

"It was a group of friends in Gryffindor made up of our Dad, our godfather Sirius Black, Professor Lupin and Wormtail," Harry explained, noticing Draco's confused expression. "There's Mum."

Harry looked near the front of a table at a young girl talking very animatedly about how her muggle parents didn't believe in witches, but she was sure of it from the start and had read all her books and finally felt like she belonged somewhere.

"Did she ever stop to breathe?" Draco asked. He stopped briefly then noticed some Slytherin students staring at the loud little girl. A deep scowl grew across his mouth.

"You know I always thought she looked a bit like Ginny, not as much as she looked like you apparently, but I never realized how much she was like Hermione before," Harry mused.

After a few minutes of listening to his mother talk, he noticed Draco standing further down the table and went to join him. As he was approaching, Draco said, "That's him, isn't it? He betrayed them, right?"

Draco was standing across from his father and directly to James' left was a short, round little boy who was staring at James with great admiration. After a moment, Harry recognized him and answered, "Yes, that's Peter Pettigrew."

"I met him once," Draco said without diverting his eyes from Peter. "Last summer, when they brought me to see the Dark… when they took me to V-Voldemort, I saw him there. I suppose he didn't even remember me with the spell and all, but I was there with the tosser and he was so bloody thrilled to be standing next to Voldemort. And here he is, getting to know the boy he's going to kill."

Harry couldn't think of any way to appease Draco's murderous stare because there was no way he knew of to appease himself. Instead he stood there as James talked about Quidditch and how he was going to try out on a school broom, since they didn't let him bring his own. Peter just looked wide-eyed at James, seemingly grateful to be in his presence. Noticing a tall, gangly boy on the other side of James, Harry finally spoke, "I personally can't wait to see him rot in Azkaban for his crimes. To suffer just as he made Sirius suffer for all those years. But the only thing I can think of is that from what we're seeing they were friends. Peter and Dad and Professor Lupin were all friends. One thing I don't think we'll get is bad memories of Wormtail. For better or worse, Dad cared about him and trusted him."

Dumbledore soon rose at the teacher's table and gave his annual speech, including the part about not entering the Forbidden Forest (as always) and encouraging friendship and unity in the dark times of war. Eventually, the students soon began to file out. James looked over his shoulder and noticed Lily. He then held Peter and Remus back for a minute while she passed them and walked out.

Draco and Harry followed their father and his two friends. They overheard him say, "At least Gryffindor got all of the cute girls. This school might hold my interest yet."

Remus chuckled briefly and Peter howled with laughter. At Pettigrew's vastly overbearing laugh, Lily and a group of girls turned around and glanced at them with disgusted looks on their faces. James mumbled something that had Peter staring at the floor. Draco cracked a wide smirk at this, as if giving his approval of James' chastising response. Lily was facing forward again and talking animatedly to her new friends.

"I honestly was terrified when I found out there were students who had known about magic and wizards for their entire lives. I was worried I'd be stuck behind or a second class witch, but really it seems like we're all on the same level here. I think that's totally wonderful. This place is just going to be fantastic."

No sooner had Lily stepped through the doorway of the Great Hall then she was knocked off her feet as something was hurled into her face. Her friends grabbed her arms and pulled her up as she was wiping the offending substance off her face, noticing she was now caked in mud. Nearby a group of five Slytherin boys from around third year were laughing hysterically. A couple of them grabbed hands and danced in a circle, singing, "Mudblood, mudblood, dirty, dirty mudblood."

A large boy who could have been a fifth year stepped forward and said, "Hogwarts is fantastic, friend. I'm sure you love it far too much to spoil it with your presence for long. Right Mu—"

The boy was knocked from his feet and a blur of dark hair tackled him down the steps of the Great Hall. At the bottom, James ended up on top of the much larger boy, punching him in the face repeatedly. Harry would be lying if he said he wasn't extremely satisfied at the crunching sound of the boy's nose shattering. The other Slytherins were heading to help their leader only to be cut off by Remus and Peter with their wands raised. Harry wasn't sure what they could really do being first years, but they sold it enough to convince the two older students to back a step up towards the hall. The fourth Slytherin boy reached the bottom of the stairs and delivered a swift kick to James's forehead ripping open a deep gash.

As the boy was about to kick James again, Harry and Draco saw a wild-eyed boy with jet black hair run up and punch the Slytherin who had actually conjured and thrown the mud at Lily. The two exchanged a few blows before James was up on his feet again, wiping the blood out of his eyes. Suddenly all the students froze and a stern voice yelled, "What is the meaning of this!"

Harry and Draco stepped aside as Professor McGonagall walked forward accompanied by the Gryffindor House ghost, Nearly-Headless Nick. She looked from Lily's muddy tear-drenched face to the Slytherin boy on the ground wheezing through a shattered nose to the other boys seemingly frozen mid-fight and seemed to get the idea of what had happened. "Mr. Lupin and Mr. Pettigrew, unless you both would prefer to earn a detention your night at Hogwarts, I suggest you escort these young ladies to your tower. Nick will show you the way."

Peter looked longingly and Lupin patted Lily on the arm and they all followed Nick off down the hallway. McGonagall turned a furious eye towards the remaining boys. "Mr. Crabbe and Mr. Goyle, I believe you know the way to the Slytherin dungeon."

The two immediately ran in the opposite direction as the two older Slytherins stood a few feet away from the far smaller boys that had just pummeled them. McGonagall turned her eyes sternly on these boys and in her most strict tone said, "You boys have disgraced Hogwarts with this violent outburst and two of you on your first day no less. Both Gryffindor and Slytherin will lose 25 points each for your actions this morning and you have all earned a week of detentions starting tomorrow. Mr. Akery, you may return to your dormitory. The rest of you will accompany me to the hospital wing where Madam Cringley will fix you up. Then Mr. Krenshaw can return to the dungeon and I will escort you two back to your tower personally. I expect all of you in my office tomorrow at 6 o'clock sharp."

McGonagall lead the way followed closely by the Slytherin boy. The two young Gryffindor's hung back a bit. Harry and Draco followed next to them and overheard James tell the other boy as he again wiped his forehead clean of blood and sweat, "Completely brilliant shot on that pug-faced boy, mate. I'm James Potter."

James extended his hand, which the other boy took and they both shook in an exaggerated and gangly manner. As they both separated and chuckled, the other boy spoke up, "Just following your fine example, James. I'm Sirius Black."

Following this, the four figures paused in place. Draco and Harry had been following so closely that they nearly fell forward through the forms of James and Sirius. Harry looked over at Draco and asked, "So what did you think of this memory?"

Snapping his head toward Harry with an accusing look in his eyes, Draco answered, "You really are thick Scarhead! How do you bloody expect me to feel?"

Before Harry could catch onto any meaning Draco punched him cleanly in the face. Harry plopped to the ground holding his left eye. He looked up at Draco completely confused as to what he had done to merit this reaction. Then the world began to spill downward leaving only a white canvas behind. When it had contained itself into the image of a young Sirius and James smiling in front of the front door of Hogwarts, the world flashed white again.

Harry and Draco found themselves sitting in their original positions with their hands joined together on the page of the book. Without a word, Draco slammed the book shut and went to lie down on his bed with his back towards Harry. Too upset and angry to bother asking for an explanation, Harry left his room, slamming the door shut and racing down the stairs and out the front door before any of the Dursleys could talk to him.

Supposing it wasn't the best idea to go walking alone without a wand while any number of Death Eaters could be on the look-out for him, Harry went around to the west side of the house and sat down between a pair of bushes. Here in the dirt, Harry spent the afternoon in quiet thought.

When Harry went in for dinner, he briefly glanced upstairs before proceeding into the kitchen. Katharine was enjoying her last meal at Privet Drive and since Draco wasn't here, Harry had to listen to every mean and vindictive thing his great-aunt had to say. The subject of Draco's absence was completely unaddressed except for a brief statement about where the rude boy with ugly hair had gone off. When Harry retired for the evening, he found Draco lying in bed writing in his journal at a quick pace. Upon Harry walking forward, Draco quickly shut the book, nearly catching and breaking his quill in the process.

Harry sat on the edge of the bed facing back towards the door, looking in the opposite direction as Draco. After a few moments of tense silence, Harry looked in a mirror on the back of the door and saw his face was growing a nice purple mark under his eye. Swallowing a breath, he asked, "So why did you—"

"Because, you knob," Draco began as he turned towards Harry, "Despite what you said earlier I was never meant to be any part of your group. I'm not the brave boy raising his wand and helping the girls. I'm not the friend diving in to save you at the last minute. For the love of—I'm not even the murderous git of a traitor, Pettigrew. I'm a Slytherin through and through Potter. How many times have I been just as cruel to Granger? I'm not her friend or her hero. I'm not your friend. I'm the villain, Potter."

The silence seemed to stretch out as they sat there. Draco was staring out the window and Harry was looking at Draco. As much as he really agreed with just about everything Draco said, Harry found himself not at all liking the distance between them. For a little while in the past it had seemed like they had started at least down a road together. So even though he bit his own tongue to try and keep it in, Harry found himself talking again, "As much as you might not like it, you are my brother. There isn't anything else that you said that's untrue though."

"Draco, you know last year I was absolutely convinced you were a Death Eater. You had the Dark Mark and were plotting to kill us all. Even Hermione and Ron defended you to me. I was absolutely convinced. Nothing could have been more certain or obvious. But you don't have the mark, do you… ………… Do you? DO YOU!"

Draco sat up and raised his sleeves revealing two perfectly clean arms.

"See," Harry said. "And even if you were a villain, you made a decision to not be anymore. It can't be that much harder to now make the decision to be a good person. I still have my doubts, but you ARE James and Lily Potter, just as much as I am. So, I suppose there has to at least be a chance you can change." A second later he added, "Not that I'm putting a galleon on a bet like that though."

Draco glanced up to see Harry smiling, so he figured it was at least partially a jest. Reaching for his journal, Draco moved over to the desk and began writing. Harry took off his glasses and laid back on top of his covers. He closed his eyes and asked, "Are you trying to fill that up tonight?"

"Actually it takes me about three months to fill up a volume," Draco replied without looking up from his writing.

"And how many of those have you filled so far?"

"Just about four a year since midway through first year, so this would be my twenty-second."

"Wow," Harry leaned back up. "I never figured you for the contemplative type, Draco. Can I read some?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"They're private."

"No secrets between brothers, Draco."

"Fine, you can read them someday."

"Tomorrow?"

"No."

"Later this summer?"

"Probably not."

"When?"

"I'll leave them to you in my will. Now go to sleep, Harry."

Noticing the name Draco had used, Harry laid back down and started drifting off to sleep. He decided to believe that it wasn't a slip-up, but a step forward. A half-hour later, Draco returned to his bed and after looking through the photos for a few minutes, drifted off to sleep himself.


	4. The Best of Times

**CHAPTER THREE: The Best of Times…**

The next two weeks were actually the finest ones that Harry had ever spent at Number Four, Privet Drive. It started the day Great-Aunt Katharine left for home. The very instant the taxi pulled away, Harry turned to Uncle Vernon and demanded his belongings back.

"Oh, demand do you?" Uncle Vernon sneered. "Well, don't think I haven't noticed all the weird things that other one has been doing. No boy, I think the best course of action is to keep them to myself until you leave for good."

At the same moment, Draco had walked downstairs in jeans and a t-shirt that had until that moment belonged to Harry, who was having trouble adjusting to seeing Draco in muggle clothes and was almost as flabbergasted as the Dursleys to see the reclusive boy out of his room for anything besides a meal. Pulling his wand out, Draco called out, "_Accio Harry's wand and trunk._"

With three great knocks, Harry saw his trunk smash through the basement doorway and set itself down in the hallway. As Draco walked back and levitated it up into their bedroom, he tossed Harry the wand that had obediently flown to his hand. Harry pocketed it as Draco returned downstairs and raised his wand at Uncle Vernon, swishing it back and forth across his bushy mustache.

"I cast a locking charm on that door," Draco said in a deep and overbearing whisper. "Now, I'm going for a walk and if I return to find it tampered with, I won't be at all happy. I don't know why Potter treats you all so nice, but I'm a Slytherin and the very worst muggle-hater you've ever met in your life. If you won't respect those different than yourself, then you can bloody well respect those better than you. I think it's high time you treat the wizards of the house with the proper respect, don't you?"

Before Vernon could respond, Draco was past him and heading out the front door and down Privet Drive. Harry could have unlocked the charm on the door himself, but then Draco would react poorly. Rather than risking Draco cursing the Dursleys for him opening the locked door to their bedroom, Harry jogged down the street and quickly caught up with Draco.

"You wouldn't really hurt them would you?" Harry asked, trying not to let too much concern into his voice.

"Well," Draco began, "I suppose they are my family too, _unfortunately_. So I suppose nothing too serious, just a little here and there to keep them in line. The little one would look charming with a few well placed boils."

Any doubts about Draco's less than honorable methods were extinguished that night at dinner when without looking up from her haslet, Aunt Petunia said, "Pass the milk… please."

Both Dudley and Harry's faces flashed upward with looks of complete shock. The jug of milk was sitting right in front of Harry. Draco continued to eat his dinner without looking up. Handing the milk towards his aunt, Harry heard her mutter something unintelligible. Draco made a very pointed cough at that moment causing Petunia to immediately repeat herself more clearly with a barely audible, "thank you."

Harry made up his mind at that moment that as far as events in this house were concerned, Draco was turning into a decent cohort. Of course, he quickly added that this relationship would never extend beyond the boundaries of the Dursley family kitchen and maybe their room.

That changed the next day; when the Potters established the routine they followed without fail for the next two weeks. Immediately after breakfast they went down into the basement where they practiced protection charms for a couple of hours. Harry found himself a more natural dueler than Draco, hitting him far more often. Unfortunately, he also had to admit to himself Draco was much farther along in using nonverbal spells. Accepting it didn't make it any easier to live with while Draco was rubbing it in. Which he did. A Lot.

They would then move onto transfiguration, where Harry couldn't keep up. He found Draco to be a worthy second to Hermione at the art, perhaps even on par with her. After they broke for lunch, they went up to their room, which Harry was annoyed to find Draco still always kept locked without exception. They would go through at least a page of the book, which held between two and four memories.

The rest of the memories went relatively smoothly. Draco found no shortage of humor in the pranks the Marauders played on other students and thought their quest to become unregistered animagi was utterly brilliant. Harry was silently thankful there were no more memories of his mother being taunted, especially after how Draco reacted the first time. The bruise on Harry's cheek had only just shrunk back to normal size. Both of them also found it remarkable how far James went to impress almost any girl, but especially Lily. She actually fought with him more than anyone except Snape. Despite the fact that they were both in the same House, they spent almost no time together. Sirius, who had just as many girls hanging around him as James, seemed to be the only one who noticed how often he looked at Lily and teased him mercilessly about it, though he never revealed to anyone else what he saw.

After a trip through the book, they often went for a walk outside for some fresh air. Harry especially enjoyed this time because they spent it talking about their parents' memories and lives. For more than a week, Draco still had a tendency to preface any time he said the words "mum" or "dad" with the word "our." It was more than a week before he actually referred to James as just plain Dad. It was during one of these walks he said it and Harry thought his brother seemed to be adjusting relatively quickly. He almost never slipped and called Lucius by anything other than his proper name anymore, but still had a tendency refer to Narcissa as his mother. For better or worse, Harry accepted that she raised him for 16 years and he had always been fiercely protective of her. Despite his affections for Narcissa, he never spent much time in the memories far away from Lily. Even Draco himself failed to find an explanation as to why he was drawn to Lily. She certainly didn't remind him of Narcissa Malfoy, but Lily Evans was… familiar… comforting.

After dinner, Harry found himself relatively bored most days. Draco would spend every evening reading the few of last year's schoolbooks he had brought with him and _The Daily Prophet_ he had delivered each day and then writing in his journal until he went to sleep. Just the previous night though, Harry had seen Draco walk into Uncle Vernon's study and take a collection of works by William Shakespeare. Harry found this unusually fascinating, as Draco never expressed any interest in any other muggle things in the home. He was constantly casting silencing charms around the television and radio, both of which he complained about to no end, even after they were silenced.

"Do muggles actually think that drek is funny? It's so bloody repetitive. You don't enjoy that do you? Who are the Spice Girls and why do they want to bloody drive me mad?"

Harry used the excuse of getting one of his textbooks out of his trunk to walk past Draco at the desk. He looked over his shoulder and saw the play he was reading was Macbeth, the story his mother had mentioned. Harry expected another rant about how unrealistic and bigoted the portrayal of the witches was, but none was forthcoming. Definitely odd, since the one thing Draco loved to talk about more than anything else was how put upon by the muggles he was, even if he did have the house answering to most of his whims by now and running the way he wanted. _Controlling bugger_. But he hadn't used the word "mudblood" in weeks.

It was the afternoon Harry received his first letter of the summer that he finally saw his parents begin to have a relationship that went beyond a competitive animosity. The brothers were walking up the moving steps at Hogwarts behind Sirius and James, staying close so they didn't become separated. Sirius would every now and then hop up on a railing and balance on it, walking up it as opposed to the stairs. Harry had noticed that Sirius did that far more often around mixed company, who found it immensely impressive, but he occasionally did it even when alone with James. Sirius had said, "Don't want you to feel like anything special, Prongs."

Tonight his torment of James consisted of his favorite topic: the head girl, Lily Evans.

"So James, is tonight the night you finally give up this retched bachelor's life we've muddled through for these past seven years?" Sirius asked with a grin. "Is tonight the night the lovely Lily finally becomes YOUR lovely Lily?"

"Shut it, Padfoot," James said through gritted teeth. "Aren't I supposed to give you detention just for being out in the halls this late?"

"Now, now, let's not talk like that Prongs. You know betrayal of a fellow Marauder would result in an eternity of torment in the hell specially reserved for traitors and bloody stupid wankers."

Sirius hopped off the railing and stood in front of James as they waited for the next level of stairs they needed to reach the Heads dormitory to move into place. He sat down on the steps and leaned back, then asked, "You know it's been more than six glorious years you've spent in my company and have I ever steered you wrong?"

James and Harry both suppressed a laugh at Sirius' statement. His grin grew even wider and he continued, "Well, regardless of that, I've never led you wrong with the fairest of sexes and believe me when I say that the only thing standing between you and Lily and your nauseating eternal blahbity-blah happiness is you asking one question, you stupid git."

As James advanced toward Sirius, he rolled backward and fell off the top of the steps, only to land on another staircase swinging off in the direction of Gryffindor tower. Sirius called back at him, "Just think about it, will you? I'll have no cowards as friends of mine!"

Shortly thereafter his own steps came into place and James proceeded up them, muttering, "Thinks he's so smart. I'll teach him whom to call a wanker. I just don't want to date anyone as annoying as Evans, even if she is a bit cute."

As he came up to the portrait of fat country friar, James gave his password, "Glorious Gryffindor." Draco groaned loudly as he did when James came up with the password a couple of days ago. Harry and Draco snuck through the portal just before James, who was smacked in the face with a throw pillow and a voice bellowed, "Damn it, Potter!"

Neither Harry nor Draco ever questioned why their father fell in love with Lily Evans. The only question is why everyone didn't. Plenty of people enjoyed her company. She had a couple of friends, but wasn't extremely close with anyone. She was a bit of a loner. But Harry agreed with Draco when he expressed how flabbergasted he was that every boy at school wasn't passionately in love with this girl. She was far and away the smartest and most beautiful witch in the school, regardless of year; tall, a gorgeous smile and smooth, pleasant features that Harry admitted he saw in his brother. And she was, as Draco had once called her, "a blooming spitfire."

Now she marched up to James, her face flushed red and hair a mess and exclaimed, "Your stupid snitch is loose in my room again and it won't bloody leave! I'm trying to study for our Potions exam and your little boy's toy is trying to burrow into the back of my damn skull, Potter! What are you going to do about it!"

"Suggest that you study out here?" James mentioned as he ducked under a slap. "For heaven's sake Evans, why are you even studying? You're in the Slug Club, first in the class and Hogwart's own Miss Perfect. Dumbledore would shut the place down before letting you fail."

"Fine I won't study, Mr. Potter," she said. "Where do you suggest I sleep? Out here or in your bloody room?"

Without a word, James' face exploded in red and he marched into her room and emerged again five seconds later with the snitch firmly grasped in his hand. As he marched across the common room to his own door he muttered, "No reason to be nasty, Evans. All you had to do was ask."

As he opened his door, Lily called out to stop him, "Potter, wait. Just… well thank you. You will try and keep it in your room from now on won't you?"

"Sure, Evans."

"So…" she got up slowly and walked a couple steps towards him. "I was thinking, well you know when the snitch wasn't trying to brain me, I was thinking about going on the Hogsmead trip on Saturday and I was wondering… Well, I figured you would probably be going with that pack of yours, but if you could maybe tear yourself away from Sirius Black for a single day, you might, sort of, maybe, want to… you know… escort me."

"_Escort_ you?" James asked his eyes wide with shock.

"Yes, Potter," she answered with a smile. "It's a verb meaning to accompany, or as you might say, 'go wit'."

"Um… yes, I suppose. I mean, of course, yes," he answered taking a step towards her.

"Oh, wonderful," she said, quickly turning around and walking towards her room.

"Can I count on you being this sweet all day Saturday?"

"Can't let you off easy now, can I?" she replied. Without looking back, she shut her bedroom door behind her.

James threw the snitch into his room and stepped in, grabbing it again. He then kicked his door shut, leaving Harry and Draco sitting on the common room couch.

"I bloody well have to get a snitch," Draco replied leaning back in the couch.

Leaning forward, Harry wiped a tear from his eye. Draco hit him sharply with his elbow and Harry leaned back and said, "Hey! I just always wondered how Mum and Dad got together. If they ever told Sirius or anyone, nobody ever mentioned it to me."

"Of course he never told Sirius," Draco exclaimed, standing up and shutting his eyes as the ceiling and walls began spilling down. Harry shut his eyes too since he agreed it was far less disorienting to reenter the real world this way. Draco continued, "He probably told Sirius how he caught the snitch in front of her and he ever so coolly asked her to join him for an afternoon out on the town."

"And you think Sirius bought that?"

"Not for a bleeding second," Draco chuckled as he now found himself sitting in the desk chair with his hand trapped beneath Harry's. After waiting a couple moments, he kicked the bed frame, saying, "Get off. Next thing you know you'll be playing footsy with me under the kitchen table, you bender."

Harry quickly released Draco's hand and rolled back, grabbing his pillow and tossing it at Draco's head. Grabbing it out of the air, Draco smacked Harry's eternally-disheveled head with it and opened the bedroom door, asking, "Ready to head out?"

Harry responded with a nod and started downstairs. He had recently decided to give up commenting on Draco locking the door to their bedroom with magic. Given what he almost lost already this summer, it probably wasn't the best idea to criticize the extra security. Draco caught up just as Harry was reaching the front of the street. They started down the street heading north. Harry opened his mouth to start talking about the day's memories when Draco grabbed his shoulder and pointed up in the sky. Harry glanced upward for a moment before his eyes caught a pair of owls flying toward them.

"Not Hedwig," Harry said, "Yours?"

"No," Draco shook his head. "Far too small to be Nicodemus and anyway we just left him up in our room."

A moment later the owls flew overhead and without breaking flight, dropped a letter each down into their hands. Harry ripped his open. The first page was the standard reminder to be on Platform 9 and ¾ on September 1st. But it was incredible news. Hogwarts would be in session again. Dumbledore had won over Scrimgeor. Harry couldn't help himself from reading the first page again to prove to himself that he could really go back to Hogwarts for his final year. Looking over, Harry saw a wide grin on Draco's face. Harry remembered that it would have been his fault if the school closed because of Draco's betrayal. This must have been a great load off of his shoulders. Harry noticed Draco's letter was a bit thicker. 'He must have made prefect for Slytherin again,' Harry thought.

Looking at the second page, Harry spoke quietly, "hmm… must be holding a ball again."

**HOGWARTS SCHOOL**

**of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY**

ADDITIONAL AND NEW EQUIPMENT

1 set of dress robes (all years)

1 cauldron (brass, standard size 5)

Standard supplies for coursework

CORE COURSEBOOKS (mandatory for all seventh year NEWT students)

_The Standard Book of Spells, Level Seven_ by Miranda Goshawk

_Advanced Botanical Applications_ by Fruicia Cleary

_Great Potions of the Modern Era_ by Sebastian Wildwood

_Incredible and Impossible Transfigurations_ by Filius McGregor

_Dueling Tactics of the 20th Century_ by Vilbert Snisk

OPTIONAL TEXTBOOKS (dependent on student's individual schedules)

_Hidden Truths of Numerology_ by Reginald Welshburn (Arithmancy)

_Taming the Mighty Beasts_ by Paul Freeway (CoMC)

_Finding the Eye_ by Juliet Casanova (Divination)

_A History of Magic: Revised Edition_ by Bathilda Bagshot and Harriet Bagshot (HoM)

_Decoding Secrets and Unlocking Treasures_ by Avi Sanswash (Ancient Runes)

_A World Without Magic_ by Michael Frizzel (Muggle Studies)

Harry figured from previous years about how much he would need to spend in Diagon Alley this year. He would definitely need new dress robes. He had grown nearly a foot since fourth year and the Yule Ball. The jewelry he could by in a muggle store when he went to London. And of course he needed five new textbooks. It wouldn't be too bad this year. Harry was pulled out of his own thoughts as Draco lowered himself onto the ground and sat on the sidewalk. Harry supposed he was worried about paying for his school supplies. He didn't have the Malfoy fortune anymore and as far as Gringotts was concerned there was only one Potter allowed in the family vault.

"Look if you're worried about school supplies," Harry explained, "then don't worry. I'll get you some money out of the family vault at Gringotts and you—"

"That bloody, arrogant old fool…" Draco's voice drifted off as he handed Harry a third sheet of paper that was supposed to confirm that he was still a prefect for Slytherin House. Harry silently read the letter to himself.

_Dear Mr. Draco Potter,_

_It is with great pleasure that I inform you that you have been selected by myself and the staff of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry to relinquish your title of prefect of Slytherin House and step forward as the school's Head Boy for the upcoming school year. Your outstanding academic record as well as the fine example you set aiding in the defense of our school this last summer were certainly contributing factors in this decision. But it is also my most extreme confidence in your future that will justify our choice in you. I look forward to the example you will set of putting aside past grudges and uniting with others for the good of the school and the wizarding world. Due to your new position, you will reside in the Heads room instead of the Slytherin dormitory this upcoming school year._

_Sincerely,_

_Albus Dumbledore_

_Headmaster, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_P.S. I look forward to seeing you at the Burrow in another week's time and please pass my fondest greetings on to your brother._

Harry honestly could not believe what he just read. Brother or not, Draco had let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts. He bore some of the responsibility for what Greyback did to Bill Weasley. He very nearly killed two students and the headmaster of the school and for all this he was being rewarded and held up as an example for the entire school to follow. A spark of rage burned in Harry's heart. He found himself unconsciously crinkling the letter in a firm grasp before he looked up at Draco. A million things went through his head at the moment. At least when he was passed over as Gryffindor prefect for Ron, it was to a decent person who cared about Hogwarts and deserved the title.

As Harry opened his mouth to break into a rant, Draco spoke without looking up from the sidewalk, "Don't even start, Potter. We both know I don't deserve or want this, so I certainly don't need to hear it all aloud from you now. It's painfully obvious why he's doing this so don't even start in on me."

Harry absolutely didn't want to admit he was confused as to Dumbledore's motives and he refused to admit that Draco was sharper than him. So instead of screaming he reread the letter, thinking about possible reasons to make let Draco maintain any position of authority in the school, let alone making him one of the two most powerful students. The last sentence caught Harry's eye and without thinking it through first, he said, "He doesn't want you in with the other Slytherins."

"Obviously, he feels since I became as bad a blood traitor as Weasel, some other purebloods might be upset with me," Draco said. "But that isn't the worst of it. I could talk him out of that and we all know I can take care of myself around my former friends. It's that the old bugger just won't stop meddling with my life."

Noticing Harry's confused expression as he turned back to the letter again, Draco stood and snatched it out of his brother's hand, saying, "All this talk about setting an example! Think about it, Potter. He could have sent me to stay at the Order Headquarters, or with the Weasels, or he could have kept his original promise and sent me away somewhere safe. But, no, he sent me to stay with my most hated rival and some muggle relatives that I don't care if they live or die. Now he's making me Head Boy, keeping me out of the dungeons and putting me at the forefront, the very place I don't want to be. He doesn't want me safe. I'm just another _friend_, another tool for the Boy-Who-Lived's quest. Why would I want to be any part of this!"

"Because as much as any other wizard in the world, you have every reason to want to see Voldemort gone," Harry answered quickly as if realizing the information for the first time as well. "He and his followers murdered your parents, kidnapped you, stole your very existence and spent every day of your life lying to you and poisoning you against the ones who would have loved you more than anything in the world. Because the very fact that you exist makes me want to stop them all even more. The one thing I have, well… always, wanted more than any other is a proper family. How am I supposed to find out he killed my parents and stole my brother from me and not want to destroy him? How can you not want it? What's wrong with you that you just want to leave?"

Draco stuffed his letter in his back pocket and along with the discarded Head Boy badge he had left on the ground.

"Because I suppose I prefer being alive to being brave," Draco said. "That's why no matter what my last name is, I belong in Slytherin, not Gryffindor."

Without another word, Draco began walking down the street again leaving Harry looking after him. As much as Harry wanted to play the good brother and offer some comforting words, he had to admit that he agreed with what Draco had said. Harry didn't consider him especially brave or reliable. He didn't trust Draco like he did the members of the Order and certainly not like he did Ron and Hermione. Draco may have helped in an even fight that he had caused, but that was a far cry from willingly walking into near certain death together. That afternoon, Harry went walking in the opposite direction, thinking and talking to himself. The things he had overlooked before came into sharper clarity that day. Dumbledore had brought Draco here when he could have just left him secure at Grimmauld Place. He had covered up Draco's involvement in the attack on Hogwarts, even promoting him as one of the battle's heroes. Now the promotion of Draco to Head Boy to ensure his safety. But everything from the new position in the school to the photo album all served Dumbledore's purpose of engendering Draco to both Harry and Hogwarts. He obviously meant for him to help Harry defeat Voldemort. But Harry already had Ron, Hermione, Ginny and the Weasleys and the members of the Order of the Phoenix, including Dumbledore, himself.

Of course, the older man had been correct about Snape. Harry never in a million years would have thought his father's school rival would give his life to allow the headmaster to survive. But sure enough he did. _Although_, Harry thought, _maybe that is another reason Draco shouldn't become involved_. Over the course of the last three weeks, Harry now discovered he had grown to care whether Draco lived or died. And the idea of being alone again after having a family seemed too painful to accept. It was like Sirius' death all over again. That afternoon walk seemed to stretch on for hours, but Harry nevertheless found himself standing in front of Number Four, Privet Drive only 20 minutes later, watching Draco approach from the other direction.

As they met, Harry said, "Look, regardless of why he did it, I think we should both support Dumbledore's decision. I mean at least some of the other teachers must have gone along with him. Plus, and I know how much this means to you, we'll probably see a lot more of each other given who the Head Girl will probably be."

"Don't be so sure," Draco replied with a smirk. "If I still had any galleons, I would have lost them betting for you to be Dumbledore's Chosen Boy. So even if Granger is McGonagall's favorite it's no promise. "

"True," Harry said. "But—"

He stopped mid-thought and looked as a tawny owl landed on one of Aunt Petunia's garden gnomes and looked back and forth between them. Draco reached towards the letter on the owl's leg only to have it fiercely bite his pointer finger. Before Harry could make a similar attempt the owl grabbed the letter in its mouth and flew directly across the street. The letter expertly dropped from the owl's mouth through the mail slot of Number Seven, Privet Drive. Draco and Harry shared a disbelieving glance and started across the street together.

"That was unexpected," Harry said.

"I thought you were the only wizard in Little Whinging?" Draco asked.

"Until you moved in, it was just me and Mrs. Figg," Harry explained. "She's a squib and a member of the Order who lives around the block with more cats than it's healthy for one woman to own."

As they walked up towards the door, Harry raised his hand to knock when the door was flung open. A small girl with her hair in blonde pigtails was holding an open letter and looked up at them. She spoke in a slightly high-pitched voice and asked, "Did you deliver this?"

Pointing at the owl now flying circles over the street, Draco answered, "No, wizarding mail is delivered by owls."

"And are you wizards?" she asked, glancing back at the letter, "From Hogwarts?"

"We actually just live across the street at Number Four," Harry answered, "But my brother, Draco, and I both go to school at Hogwarts. We're seventh years there. Is that your first Hogwarts letter?"

"Yes," she answered as she ignored them to reread the letter. "Is this real? Am I a witch?"

Smiling, Harry replied, "Of course you are, Hogwarts letters are never wrong. I know it seems strange, but that's just because you are muggle-born… someone with non-magical parents. You're parents aren't wizards or witches are they?"

The little girl shook her head 'no' and started walking back into her house, leaving Harry and Draco standing in the doorway. Not sure how to proceed, they both stood there for a minute before a tall, thin woman with long blonde hair and wearing a purple apron came out from the kitchen and walked towards them carrying the letter. She offered them a most frightening glare.

"Did you two give this to my daughter?"

Harry and Draco both shook their heads. When she was less than a half-meter away from them, she spoke quietly enough so her daughter in the kitchen doorway couldn't hear, "I recognize you. You live with the Dursleys across the street. You should both be ashamed playing tricks on an 11-year-old girl and calling her a witch."

"Ma'am," Harry began, "We just saw the owl deliver the letter and came over to see who it was sent to. I've lived here since I was a little kid and never met another… Hasn't she ever done anything you couldn't explain? Do things ever disappear or move on their own? It's called accidental magic."

Leaning closer, the woman's brown eyes seemed to go fiery as she spoke again, "A couple of teenaged boys hear some rumors and decided it would be fun to wind her up. Just cruel—"

"_Petrificus Totalus_."

For an instant Harry feared that Draco had actually done something as stupid as casting the Full Body Bind on the poor muggle woman. This didn't happen, but he was not at all relieved when he went rigid and fell forward onto the carpeted floor of his stunned neighbor's house. He had trouble concentrating as he had bumped his head something fierce on the floor, but a moment later he felt his entire body go light and rise up off of the ground with his feet pointing upward. The tall woman motioned for Draco to come in and have a seat and Harry found himself with his head dragging along the floor.

Draco sat on a small, upholstered couch and stared at Harry with an enormous smile on his face. For only the second time in his life he'd gotten the drop on Harry and planned on enjoying it immensely. The small girl in pigtails came into the room clutching her letter and sat on the couch next to Draco. She looked at Harry and giggled as Draco made him bounce up and down. Harry made sure he would remember that Draco was none too gentle about this when they were alone later. The girl's mother came back in with a tray and tea and set it down. She nudged her head toward Harry and asked, "Is he alright?"

Draco nodded and waved his wand. Without a word Harry was released from Draco's control, but found he was unable to balance himself on his head and rolled forward, nearly losing his glasses. He glared at Draco a moment before sitting in a chair and saying, "I'm not too bad off, ma'am. By the way, I'm Harry Potter. _That_ is my brother, Draco."

"Pleased to meet you, Harry," she said, pouring him a cup of tea. "I'm Melissa Witchett. This is my daughter, Sarah. I am sorry for not believing you, but it is rather fantastic and well, with our last name, it isn't that unusual a joke to be played on a little girl."

"Well usually Hogwarts letters to muggle-born are brought to someone," Harry explained. "I don't understand why a wizard wasn't here. Maybe another mistake, like Mum."

"We're here," Draco added.

"But—"

"Dumbledore."

"Of course," Harry nodded his head. A forced situation that brought Harry and Draco closer together. Maybe the Slytherin noticed first, but it was just blatant enough for the Gryffindor Potter to catch on.

"What's Hogwarts like?" Sarah asked without taking her eyes off of her letter.

"Well, there are schools all over the world that teach magic to people who have a gift for it," Harry began. "But we're both of the firm opinion that Hogwarts is the best in the world. You'll learn from some of the finest teachers in the world. Our headmaster, Albus Dumbledore is a wonderful wizard and one of the most powerful in centuries. Half of a century ago, he defeated the last great dark wizard Grindewald."

"Hogwarts Castle is one of the finest and most magical buildings in the world," Draco interrupted. "It's up in Scotland a short ride from the wizarding village of Hogsmeade. There are tall and majestic towers, mysterious dungeons and moving staircases. As a building it really hasn't had a rival since the four founders built it a thousand years ago."

"Cor," Sarah exclaimed looking up from her letter. "So what kind of classes will I take? I'm not too strong in bible studies, but Dad says I'm a crackerjack at science."

"Classes at Hogwarts aren't like anything you could learn in the muggle world," Draco said definitively. "First years take transfiguration, potions, charms, astronomy, defense against the dark arts, history of magic and herbology. But elective courses start in third year."

"Although I'm not sure Draco would recommend Care of Magical Creatures," Harry said, chuckling as he remembering his encounter with Buckbeak the hippogriff four years ago.

Draco simply sneered and responded, "I'll have you know I received top marks last year from your rotund friend."

"You took NEWT level courses with Hagrid?" Harry asked disbelieving.

"Why not? By the way, he was blubbering for most of the first class when your lot didn't show up. Little man Longbottom and I were the only ones in the entire class. Didn't he ever mention it?"

Harry shook his head and Draco added, "Probably worried about offending Saint Potter's delicate sensibilities."

Harry made a pointed cough, nodding his head in the direction of the Witchetts. Draco dropped the sneer off of his face and returned to an impassive grin. Sarah looked up from her letter again and looked at Draco, asking, "Where do we get all this stuff?"

Sarah Witchett proved herself to be a very curious young girl over the next several hours. Asking questions on everything from what was expected from first year students to the conversion rates of English pounds to galleons. Harry and Draco ended up staying for dinner (they insisted that the Dursleys wouldn't mind) and met Mr. Witchett, who was several inches shorter than his wife and ran a used bookstore in the city. Harry took the opportunity to cast the Confundus Charm on Draco to demonstrate for him the validity of their claims. When a letter arrived from the Ministry of Magic inquiring about concerns of possible under-age magic used in the house, Draco stepped outside and whistled for his eagle owl. Mrs. Witchett nearly dropped the bread pudding she had made for dessert as Nicodemus flew in the front door and gracefully landed on the back of Draco's now empty chair. Harry had to admit it was quite a sight. The eagle owl was far larger than Hedwig with a wingspan of nearly 135 centimeters.

Sarah reached for it and was nipped roughly in the hand before Draco chastised the bird, quietly saying, "Stop acting like a Malfoy. Be good like Harry's white rat with wings."

Nicodemus ruffled his feathers substantially at the comparison to what Harry thought was a very excellent bird. Draco took a moment to write a brief explanation and signed it 'Draco Malfoy,' who as far as the Ministry was concerned was of age. Looking at his own signature, Draco thought for a moment that it just… didn't look right anymore. Muttering about the Ministry, "having better things to do" under his breath, he secured the letter to the owl's leg. Silently agreeing with Draco's critique of the Ministry, Harry was glad they had avoided the topic of the war for most of the evening, saying only a man named Riddle and some agitators were making things a bit dangerous attacking muggles and muggle-friendly wizards throughout England. Mr. Witchett was most disturbed at this, but Harry assured him there was no safer place in the world than Hogwarts.

Harry noticed the bird's hawk-like talons and silently hoped it would, as Draco put it, "be good." Draco handed Sarah a piece of his bread pudding and, still sucking her left thumb, she lifted it towards the bird. Nicodemus gave the softest "ohh-hu" Harry had ever heard the testy bird make as it lightly pecked it from Sarah's bare hand then hopped to the kitchen window, keeping its head bent low to fit out and fly off into the night. Sarah then began asking all manner of questions relating to purchasing and caring for owls. She was adamant about not letting the Potters leave that evening without agreeing to accompany them to Diagon Alley in three days time to purchase school supplies. As they were walking out the door, Harry agreed to the trip, "I suppose it would be nice to get everything settled for school before we leave. And I need to pick up something for Bill and Fleur."

"Why are you leaving? Where are you going?"

"Well," Draco explained, "Harry here is going to a wedding next week and I figured I'd see what kind of trouble I could get him in while we're there. Then there's some work to do regarding Lord V—that Riddle man we mentioned earlier, but we'll meet up with you on the Hogwarts Express on…"

"September 1st," Sarah finished.

"Right," Harry nodded. The Witchetts waved goodbye while Harry and Draco made their way back across the street. Aunt Petunia had not left the porch light on for them, perhaps hoping they never found their way home. Walking up to the Dursleys front door, Harry tried to ask Draco as nonchalantly as possibly, "So how is your month among the muggles going, Draco Potter?"

"Well," he began, "I don't think I'll be laying down my life for their kind anytime soon, but…"

"But?"

"Don't push it. When one finds out their entire life has been a lie, they're going to start rethinking other things they once accepted as true."

Turning to face Draco and stopped their progress, Harry looked him in the eyes and demanded, "We're in a war, Draco. A war with casualties. Our schoolmate Cedric, our godfather Sirius, our teacher Snape, as well as dozens of people we don't know have already lost their lives on my side. We have no damn use for people who are still figuring out what side _they_ want to be on. Like it or not you chose your side last month in the Astronomy Tower. Where in the world can we hide you that's safer than Hogwarts? You'll be safe when Voldemort's dead and gone. I'm going out on a ledge to say that in your heart you want to be in this fight just as much as I do. You're already one of Voldemort's top five targets in the world and what have you been doing for the last month?"

"That's enough, Potter!"

"No, it isn't, POTTER! You've spent the last month hanging around with the top target. You didn't want to kill Dumbledore anymore than you wanted to kill me. You don't want to kill or abuse muggles or muggle-borns just because they're born to different parents than you, because you're starting to love your mother who was one. One day you'll admit that out loud, that you love her. And it WILL change your world forever. There's a good person in you that wants a place in this fight and every day he's getting closer to coming out. I can see it. Dumbledore can see it. You just spent an evening laughing and eating and getting along with muggles. What's it going to take to push you to defending these things that I bloody well know you care about? What the hell is it going to take, you conceded son of a bitch?"

"You know Harry, 'son of a bitch' isn't that damning an insult coming from one's brother," Draco replied with his standard smirk. "Besides that I don't know what to tell you. I know I don't want to die and I don't want to kill anyone else. I have no sodding idea how to bring out this person you think is in me… because I just can't see him."

With that, Draco pushed back Harry and entered the house. He was asleep by the time Harry reached the bedroom, or at least pretending to be. Harry did not argue the point further either way.


	5. Life, Death and Moving On

**CHAPTER FOUR: Life, Death and Moving On**

In the days before their trip to Diagon Alley, Harry and Draco were up with the sun. They sacrificed time out of their basement training sessions and afternoon walks to focus on the photo album. They remained determined to touch the last page of the book by the end of the week. They had been at it near relentlessly the last couple of days, but were making steady progress. For Harry it is the next step in a quest to understand his family and his life. For Draco it is the first step in understanding himself.

The Potter wedding was an impressive affair and a mostly happy day. Though Harry and Draco shared their parents' disappointment that neither side had any family present. James' parents had passed away of a rare sickness early in his seventh year. They had James late in life, even by wizarding standards, but still didn't shirk away from the fight due to age. Petunia and her new husband had not returned their invitations. Both of Lily's parents were killed in a car accident the summer after her seventh year. Harry supposed that was how Aunt Petunia came up with the lie that they had told him about his own parents' death until he was eleven. The closest thing to family was the best man, Sirius, and the other Marauders.

When Lily found out she was pregnant in late 1979, it started what both she and her husband agreed was the happiest time in their lives. They had already faced and escaped Voldemort himself three times. Capturing several of his most loyal lieutenants, the Potters were the most successful field members of Dumbledore's Order of the Phoenix with the singular exception of the Prewitt brothers. But this same success was soon to doom them to their fate.

Lily often remarked how much she enjoyed being pregnant, though it was a short pregnancy even for twins at 33 weeks. Harry had ended up in tears after a memory of her and James visiting a wizarding park when she was four months along. James had made his wife a picnic and talked about how they wanted an enormous family. Lily had said that pregnancy agreed with her so much, she wanted to try it out every three or four years at the least. The idea of having a huge family as large as the Weasleys had left Harry nearly weeping. Draco had sheepishly placed his hand on Harry's shoulder for a few minutes while he calmed down. From then on Harry did his best not to think about the 'could have beens' in his life anymore. The only path to take now is forward.

Yesterday afternoon they had the very unusual treat of viewing their own births. The memory had begun in the lobby of St. Mungo's Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries. It was a relatively quiet morning when James came through the front door, slowly leading Lily by the hand. Sirius and Remus followed shortly behind them carrying a pair of bags of luggage Lily had brought with her.

Lily spent the entire day in labour with ever increasing amounts of pain. It seemed as if the twins were determined to take their sweet, old time entering the world. James stayed with her almost the entire time as other guests from the waiting room took turns visiting as the arrived. Most of the Order of the Phoenix had been in to visit them and by sunset, they were crowded in the waiting room, anxiously awaiting the new additions to their friends' family. By eleven at night, Lily was nearly exhausted. But she appeared strong and determined when the medi-witch told her it was time to push. Harry had always pictured his mom and dad older, like other students' parents, but these memories were a frightful reminder that they were only 21 when he was born and neither lived to see their 23rd birthday. Harry and Draco were nervously pacing behind their father, willing the memory not to stop. On July 31, 1980 at 11:48 PM, the first baby was delivered. Though crying at first, he soon quieted down.

"Do you have a name for this little wizard?" the medi-witch asked.

Still breathing heavily, Lily replied, "Draco, like on the school crest and Patrick after his Grandpa Evans."

Taking the baby away to be checked over, she said, "Welcome to St. Mungo's, Draco Patrick Potter."

Draco followed himself over to a small floating basinet in the corner and watched the baby with deep brown eyes. Meanwhile, Harry resumed pacing waiting for the small version of him to emerge. Lily squeezed James' hand as she prepared to evict her other little houseguest.

"We're doing it Jim," she breathed. "We're becoming a family."

Kissing her on the forehead and gripping her hand, James added, "I'm so proud of you Lily. We all three are so proud."

Draco rejoined Harry behind their father a and only moments before the stroke of midnight, the second Potter son came into the world. This baby was not at all shy about wailing his presence for everyone in the ward to hear. Before taking the child away to join his brother, the medi-witch asked Lily the same question as before.

"Harry James, pretty names for gorgeous little boys," Lily replied as she laid back and started to fade in and out of sleep. The basinet was moved over by the bed and Lily looked down at her sons. James sat behind her with his hand on her shoulder. Since being put next to one another, the baby Harry and Draco had both quieted down substantially. Leaning over Lily's shoulder, James whispered, "Hello, my mini-Marauders. I'm your Dad and I can't wait to start teaching you all the things your Mum says I shouldn't."

Lily slapped him lightly on the face and said, "Well, we're all getting pretty tired here. Big day and all. You better start bringing in the visitors or we'll never have a minute's rest tonight."

A medi-wizard who was checking on the boys handed them to Lily, who kissed them both on the foreheads. James stuck his head down out of the door and a moment later said, "Hold on, Padfoot. There are important Potter men in here. You have to wait to be announced."

James then smiled as a hand roughly pushed him back out of the doorway and Sirius raced up to Lily, looking adoringly at the two small babies. He kissed Lily on the cheek. She introduced the boys, lifting each in turn so Sirius knew which was which, "Harry and Draco, this is Daddy's silly friend Sirius, never listen to a thing that he tells you."

With a smirk Sirius responded, "That's Uncle Padfoot to you, boys. And if you want to grow up to be fine, diligent members of the wizarding world… then best you follow Lil's advice."

"You want to let _Uncle Padfoot _in on the plan, Lily?" James asked. He had come around the bed and sat on the edge opposite Sirius.

"Of course, now listen up Black. We've had enough of your juvenile tomfoolery. It's high time you found a bird of your own and settled down. Draco and Harry need a godfather who'll be welcome in proper society," Lily said as her face broke out in a large mischievous smile.

Sirius stepped back and his head shook as if he had been hit with a Confundus spell. Glancing at a nodding James then back to Lily and the boys, Sirius stuttered, "G—God—Go—Godfather? Just… well." He was silent for a long time and hung his head. Eventually, it leaned back up and with tears in his eyes, he looked their mother in the eye and answered, "Thank you both. It's a true honor. Cheers."

The parade of visitors continued for some time and included a wide-eyed Remus Lupin and several members of the Order, both present and future, including a rather young child named Nymphadora, who was wide awake despite the late hour, and her mother Andromeda Tonks.

Leaning over the edge of the bed, the girl whispered, "Wotcher, boys."

Baby Harry gurgled at her and Tonks' hair popped from long, smooth and purple to short, curly and pink when she smiled back at him.

The room was nearly stuffed full by the time the final two, Dumbledore and Hagrid, entered. Hagrid was crying already and had thoroughly drenched his over-sized hanker-chief before he even reached the bedside. Professor Dumbledore offered his congratulations and blushed profusely when Lily kissed him. After another hour of celebration, during which Sirius apologized profusely for sneaking in the firewhiskey, a medi-witch had to convince Dumbledore to order the many visitors out of the building. The world froze as the headmaster stood smiling and offering his farewells to the Potters.

That night Harry and Draco, instead of discussing the event, cast a Silencing Charm on the room and spent the better part of the night playing Exploding Snaps and Reusable Hangman. Draco argued about the lack of strategy after losing twice in a row and went on to defeat Harry in a quick game of Wizard's Chess before retiring to write in his journal well after midnight. For a moment during the night, Harry forgot it was his one of his oldest enemies in the room with him and felt like a family at long last. For a moment, Draco forgot he was this boy's great enemy and felt like he was really… maybe for the first time since he opened the photo album… not alone.

Regardless of the fleeting thoughts of the early morning, they woke up only five hours later and returned to the book. Lily was apparently dedicated to recording the lives of her babies. There were more than a few memories of their one-year of life with their parents including a memorable first birthday. Draco complained how annoying it was that everyone got them presents in pairs.

"No damn individuality," Draco argued. "It isn't like we were identical twins."

Assuming Draco believed that statement was worthy of winning him the point, Harry didn't bother to attempt arguing. Soon after that page ended, they were staring at the last page of the book. It held only one small photo of Harry and Draco at 15 months. They were wearing shirts and pants that made them look like lions, complete with tails. Harry was wearing a bonnet made up to look like a mane of lion hair. Draco had apparently ripped his off and was crying inconsolably. All the previous memories had led them back to the beginning of their journeys: Halloween in the year 1981.

Touching Draco's hand, Harry took a deep breath and cast the charm one more time. "_Cieo_."

Soon the picture flowed up covering the Dursleys wallpaper and the flash of bright light overtook them. James was sitting at the kitchen table placing the photo of the boys into the album. He was wearing an orange sweater and khaki pants. His bare feet were tapping a quick rhythm under the table and he needed a good shave. The room looked very much like a muggle kitchen. The refrigerator was covered with photos of the boys and some pieces of messy paper that represented Lily's first art class with them. At the bottom of each page of sloopy, mixed up paint colors and handprints was the name of each artist in Lily's elegant script. Closing the book, James hopped up and walked down the hall to the living room.

Lily was lying on her stomach in the middle of the floor in front of the boys, now changed into their pajamas. She was already dressed for bed as well, wearing a long nightgown and an untied bathrobe. She was playing peek-a-boo with them when James reached over her head and covered her eyes, saying, "Where's Mummy?"

The adult Harry and Draco tried to pay attention to the scene before them, but their eyes kept glancing towards the front door. Baby Harry was lying down and starting to fall asleep. Baby Draco was sitting up staring wide eyed at his mother, glancing back and forth between her and the coffee table nearby.

Rolling over onto her back, Lily kicked her husband off of her. She sat up and smiled at James, "Guess what, Potter?"

"The Cannons finally owled to make me an offer," he answered without hesitation.

"No, stupid," she replied with a smile. "This is about somebody important. I think Draco is going to stand up on his own."

Kissing Draco on the head, Lily gently picked up a tired Harry and rocked him in her arms. She continued, "He keeps looking at things he can use to pull himself up. He can already balance himself much better than Harry. But Harry is making progress too and you know how that pushes Draco to accomplish something first. First to be born, first to sit up and first to talk."

"He is a greedy bugger, ain't he? I don't know Lil, Harry's due for a win. Look at him gaining his strength even now. And first doesn't always matter most. Harry can say ten words. Besides you just favor Draco because all he ever says is 'Mum'," James said with a grin.

Recognizing the word, Draco looked up at his father and clapping his hands repeated, "Mum, mum, mum."

"See he thinks everything is his mum!" James said as he rolled over laughing.

Lily put a tight grimace on her face and stood up, still holding Harry. "He just realizes how important that word is," she said. "Don't you dare pick on my perfect little guy."

Shifting Harry in her arms, she added, "Now I'm putting this handsome man to bed. Draco, darling, no matter what your mean oaf of a father says, I don't want you getting up on your own until I get back."

As she started up the steps, Draco cried, "Mum!" Lilly turned and smiled at him, waving goodbye. Across the room, the adult Draco whispered, "That's the last time. I never see her again."

James, oblivious to the finality of the moment, laid in front of Draco and whispered, "Okay, little Quidditch star, I'm going to stand you up in a second and your job is to stay up while I play a trick on Mummy."

"Mum!"

"Right, of course you think she's 'mum', I'm 'mum' and Harry's 'mum'. I wonder if you can make it through Hogwarts calling Dumbledore 'mum'."

"ummle..or, umer… um… um…, Mum!" Draco yelled with a giggle. James smiled wide and sat up, adding, "You sure love her, but do watch out little man. I'm the jealous type."

"Mum, mum, mum, mum… 'Arry."

James' mouth dropped open. A moment later he smiled and said, "You have to do that for her now. Wonderful job little man. Although would a quick 'Dad' kill you?"

Picking up Draco, James began walking toward the kitchen. The boys followed him and all three froze when they heard a loud _crack_ from out front. It was followed quickly by several other _pops_ and _cracks_ and then the wards went off and unseen alarms blared. James removed his wand. Harry and Draco noticed they were holding theirs too. Looking out the back door, James saw three Death Eaters wearing masks walking across the lawn. He turned around and screamed, "Lily stay upstairs with Harry!"

He quickly opened the door to an empty broom closet. He set the wailing baby down on the floor and closed the door quickly, waving his wand, "_Silencio_."

James turned around just as the front door burst apart. On the other side stood Lord Voldemort sneering as a pair of Death Eaters ran in ahead of him. Turning towards the backdoor again, James silently cast a spell that sent two other Death Eaters flying wildly back out the door and over several rooftops. A third and fourth Death Eater at the back, a man and a woman, fired off a pair of curses, both of which James parried. With a Stunning spell both of them went rigid and fell back wards. The first Death Eater from the living room came around the hallway and immediately casted, "_Crucio_."

James fell to the ground screaming, but held his wand. After several endless seconds, without a word a streak of blue light knocked the Death Eater back into the cupboard, slicing a deep gash on the back of his head. Draco nearly dropped to his knees when the attacker's hood fell back to reveal a head of white-blond hair and a pale face. Harry grabbed his hand and dragged him after their father into the living room. Seeing a Death Eater running upstairs, James yelled, "_Impedimenta!_"

The Death Eater froze and James inhaled deeply turning his wand on the snake-like man who calmly walked through the front door. Harry cringed as he heard the voice from that night in the graveyard. It was the voice of his nightmares.

"Well done, Mr. Potter," he said with a smile. "Well done indeed. Six Death Eaters in less than a minute is a feat worthy of the Prewitt brothers or the old fool Dumbledore, himself. But do you think you really accomplished anything I consider worthy of concern?"

Turning his wand on the Death Eater on the stairs, Voldemort spoke in a very sweet, almost loving voice, "Avada Kedavra."

The corpse had not even hit the floor, before the Dark Lord's wand flicked back at James and levitated him a meter in the air. Voldemort stepped up right next to James and whispered in his ear, "Now where would I find those wonderful boys of yours, James?"

James' body began to shake in pain, but he held his tongue. His wand bolted into Voldemort's hand as his face changed color and grumblings of pain began to overtake him. Still he would not speak, blood running down his chin, so tightly he held his tongue. He would never know that in 16 years, his sons would watch him. Harry stood near his father, tears stinging his eyes. Draco stood petrified off to the left. He did not think he had ever seen anything so foolish, so unnecessary, so… brave. James' eyes bolted open, as a small voice called from upstairs, "Jim? Is it over?"

A smile came over Voldemort's face and he looked like a serpent more so than ever before. James struggled against the curse, but was unable to move or break free. The Dark Lord backed away and raised his wand to point at James Potter's heart. In his sweet, killing voice, Voldemort cast, "_Avada_—"

With a swipe of his empty hand, James sent Voldemort flying and crashing through the coffee table and halfway through the sidewall of the house. Raising his hand he called out, summoning the wand to his waiting grasp, then yelling, "_Distro Reductare!_"

Small blasts of light and fire went off in the middle of the living room, forming a wall of light between James and the Dark Lord. It then sent an explosive blast away from James, ripping the side of the house clear off. He turned and yelled, "Lily, get the boys and run! Run! Draco is in—"

Without another breath, James' body slumped to the ground, as Harry and Draco stood motionless and expressionless before him. They saw the life drain out of his eyes and the green mist left over from the spell disseminating behind him. Voldemort moved forward to the stairs though with a noticeable limp and a deep cut across his face. His wand-free hand was clutching at a red stain in his robes. Harry and Draco stayed rooted to the spot as if trying to will a different history to occur. They felt the blood in their veins freeze as Voldemort walked through them and up the stairs.

Together they turned heel and ran up the stairs past him and through the wall into their bedroom. Lily was standing next to Harry, whispering the charm that will save his life and waving her wand over his crib. When she finished, tears raced out her eyes and down her face, dripping onto the crying baby. She whispered softly, "Please remember me, Harry. Never forget how much Mummy loves you. I love you. I love you. I love you forever. Daddy and Mummy love our boys forever. Take care of each other and love each other. Mum loves her boys."

The door to the room swung slowly open and Voldemort stared at Lily. She dried her tears and turned around to face him unblinkingly. He raised his wand and advanced on her, but she would not budge. In a much fiercer voice then before, Voldemort hissed, "Move mudlbood whore. My business tonight is with your children. Your blood traitor husband died poorly attempting to defend this bastard brood. Do not be as foolish. Step aside and go bring me the other boy. Now!"

"Never," Lily answered in a slow and calm tone. Harry felt his heart surge with love and pride for his mother. He had never dreamed any person could be so brave. Draco found he was clutching at Harry's wrist and mumbling, "no, no, no" quietly. When Voldemort hit her with the Killing Curse, Harry and Draco saw the green light hit her and come out of her back and down at Harry in a serene blue wave. The boys had no eyes for anything but Lily, falling to their knees at her side. Harry's scar burned at the memory of its creation and Voldemort's wail shattered the windows of the house and echoed after his fall. Harry bent low over his mother's corpse and Draco thought her heard his brother beg for her to get up. But he also heard voices from below.

Most of the pain in Draco's life had come about from being humiliated at the hand of _Harry Bloody Potter_. Narcissa abandoning him had hurt, but until tonight, until he saw James and… and Lily die, Draco finally felt utter pain and despair. Something changed in these last few weeks. He had grown to love a family, only to watch all but one of them slip away again. Through all this, the voices downstairs continued to pull at his mind and a need greater than grief worked its way into his mind. Grabbing Harry's shoulder only caused him to lean closer to Lily's body, within millimeters. Draco swallowed a sob and spoke, "Pot… Harry, I have… I have to see him take me. I have to."

Draco stood up and walked away from Harry. Then Harry was alone with his mother. His own cries were mingled with those of his younger self. He soon glanced up and saw Draco gone. Stumbling to his feet and out the doorway, Harry jumped down the steps nearly in one stride. Racing down the hallway, he came to a quick stop and ran into Draco's back. Three Death Eaters were standing in the kitchen talking. Lucius Malfoy stood there holding the back of his head and talking to Bellatrix Lestrange and her husband.

"Never!" Bellatrix screamed. "I won't believe it!"

"We all heard it," Lucius added, his eyes near white with fear. "Our master is de—"

Raising her wand, she proclaimed, "I will strike you down if you say that."

After a moment of silence, a soft wailing sound started. The three stepped forward and opened the broom closet door. There standing on the ground was the young Draco. Upon seeing the strange faces, he cried out, "Da! Mum! 'Arry! Mum!"

"Potter's child will pay," Bella wept, pointing her wand at the toddler. Lucius reached out and grabbed her wrist, twisting it away from the boy. Bending down he picked up the child and held it away from his chest.

"They will all pay, Bella," he said as a cold smile slid onto his normally masked face. "But there are some older and fouler things than death. Curses that are truly worthy of those who ki--, those who would challenge our great master. Tonight the Potter line will end and both ours will be reborn. We must find the other—"

The scream of a motorcycle echoed through the air and somewhat farther away the roar of a giant. Lucius whispered, "The Order arrives, we must fle—regroup. Meet me at the Manor, bring me that book."

Rodolphus picked up the book and with a loud _crack_ disaparated, followed shortly by a pair of _pops_ from Bellatrix and Lucius. Only instants later Draco turned around and he saw Sirius charge through the front door, wand drawn and tears streaming down his face. A monstrous howl seemed to shake the entire building as he fell before James, cradling a near weightless head in his lap. Sobs shook his body and after kissing his friend's forehead Sirius gently set James' head on the ground.

"Lily! Where are the boys! Lily!" he cried out leaping over the Death Eaters's corpse on the stairs. Harry and Draco found they didn't have the strength of will to follow. Harry knelt on the floor not far from where Sirius had a moment ago and stared at his father, wiping his tears on his sleeve. As another cry came from upstairs, Draco found himself walking out on the front porch and sitting on the steps. Back in the house Sirius came jogging down the steps, calling out for Draco. It caused the fully-grown boy to turn his head. After a quick search, their godfather walked out of the house and into the street. His head and eyes turned wildly around searching for any sign of the other baby.

Harry finally walked out and looked down at Draco. Struggling to find something to say, Harry opened his mouth only to be interrupted by a great bellowing voice, "Sirius!"

All three heads whipped around to see Hagrid running up the street, brandishing his umbrella in front of him like a mighty sword. Coming to a stop in front of Sirius, he huffed out in between great breaths, "Sirius… Dumbledore sent me… Said, said You-Know-Who was… was gone. James and Lily were…were…"

"Gone," Sirius finished. "I found Harry. But there were others. They took him Hagrid! Draco is gone! They took—"

A dark cloud floated over three sets of eyes, but without almost any interruption, Sirius continued, "Dead, Hagrid. Harry's all that's left."

With that the world froze again, slipped away and burned white. Then Harry and Draco were sitting on their beds, the book balanced on Draco's legs between them. Tears were streaming down Harry's face as he slowly retracted his hand. Draco's face was as white and pale as it had ever been while under the Malfoys' concealment charms. Neither of them spoke as Harry turned and buried his head in a pillow, muffling his sobs. Draco closed the book and set it aside. He dragged his legs upwards and clutched them close to his chest. Harry looked up from his pillow with blood-shot red eyes and flushed cheeks. Still neither spoke and a heavy, thick silence set over the room. From downstairs, there was a crash of broken dishes and Aunt Petunia could be heard exclaiming, "Duddikins are you alright?"

Harry and his brother chuckled for a brief moment over the interruption of their grief. They were then lost in another silence, but not as overbearing as before. The rest of the day passed in this silence with no activity. Draco did not write in his journal. Harry did not start a conversation about how they felt. Never before had he experienced such a tangible grief with another person. When Sirius was murdered there were others present and they all sympathized with him and many tried to comfort him. Even if it was just a memory, Harry knew that he truly lived through this moment with Draco. Both of them were experiencing the same pain over what they had just seen. Harry for the first time looked in Draco's eyes and didn't even see a glimmer of the Malfoy within. Lucius would never be thought of as a father. Narcissa would never again be his real mother. Staring at the reflection of his mother and his father's eyes, Harry felt certain he had a place in the world. No matter what differences or arguments or fights had occurred in the past or would come to be in the future, James and Lily Potter would keep them bound as a family.

It was Nicodemus who broke the long silence to ruffle out his wings. Soon after, Harry got up to head down for dinner. It seemed the hours had dragged on without notice. Just as he reached for the doorknob, a familiar voice stopped him.

"I'm in Harry. I don't know how far I can go for this. I don't think I have the strength for it. I'm… Merlin help me, I'm not brave. But I know revenge. I know it and I want to help. They pay for it. All seven that cast the charm die or rot in Azkaban. Riddle… he doesn't get to survive this."

Harry nodded and walked outside. They did not say much during dinner and spent the evening writing or reading in silence. Not long before midnight, Harry asked Draco if he could use Nicodemus to send a letter. Draco agreed and passed Harry a piece of parchment and quill to use.

_Professor Dumbledore,_

_ Draco and I finished the book today. It held all the answers I've been looking for these last six years. We know the truth. Tomorrow we will be going to Diagon Alley to purchase school supplies. In two days time we will arrive at the Burrow. Following our week there, I believe it is time to hold a full meeting with Ron, Hermione, Draco and myself. I ask that you meet us in the near future at the Order Headquarters to discuss our next steps for finding the way to defeat Voldemort. Also, I have been worried over the lack of news regarding attacks. I think they are planning something significant. It is most likely best to discuss this in person, rather than with owls. If you need anything before the wedding, please let me know._

_Sincerely,_ _Harry_

The next morning, Petunia Dursley was smiling tightly when she opened the front door and beheld a most normal site. A tall, blond woman stood there with her pigtailed daughter. The mother wore jeans and a light blue blouse and the girl wore a yellow dress with flowers on it. Of course, any comfortable feeling she had at this perfectly normal visit from her neighbors was forever dashed when the little girl asked, "Are Draco and Harry at home, ma'am?"

Petunia's smile tightened even further into a grimace and she stood in place as if frozen. Sarah looked up at her mother with a questioning expression. Mrs. Witchett glanced down at her daughter and shrugged, equally confused by the strange and unexplainable reaction.

They were saved from standing out in the cool morning air any longer by Harry. He came running down the steps, followed at a leisurely pace by Draco, who was wearing the hooded cloak he had first arrived with.

"Thank you, Aunt Petunia," Harry said. "This is Mrs. Witchett and her daughter, Sarah."

Draco quickly added, "Or as we like to think of her, the Great Witch of Privet Drive."

Harry wasn't sure if his aunt paled more at the idea of another magical person living on her street or that Draco had spoken to her at all. Certainly, Sarah was blushing at what she thought was a wonderful compliment. Deciding that the best course of action would be to separate Petunia from the wizarding folk of the block, Harry cleared his throat and drew attention to himself. He said, "Well, we're heading to London for the day and we may not be back in time for dinner."

"Don't feel the need to wait for us," Draco drawled, slinging his empty bag over his shoulder and narrowly sliding past her. Harry nodded to their aunt and followed Draco outside. Petunia continued to stand fairly rigid and look after them all.

"What an… interesting woman your aunt is," Mrs. Witchett commented. Harry swallowed a chuckle and responded,

"Yes, she is that. Will you be driving Mrs. Witchett?"

"Well, I suppose—"

"Drive!" Draco asked. "You want to waste time to ride in one of those muggle auto-things? Let's just apparate."

Leaning closely, Harry whispered, "We aren't licensed yet. It's against the rules."

"Yes, quote a rule. Because that is a sure way to stop a Potter. Honestly, you're starting to sound like Granger. I'll meet you in front of the Leaky Cauldron." Raising his voice, he continued, "We wizards actually have a more convenient way of traveling as we come of age. Mrs. Witchett, Harry will accompany you. Sarah, hold onto my hand and don't let go until we arrive."

Sarah quickly zipped her hand into Draco's and held it as tightly as she could. Instead of indicating any discomfort, he simply nodded his approval and closed his eyes in concentration. As Harry heard the small _pop_ that accompanies Draco's disaparation, he saw Mrs. Witchett's eyes go wide. Back in the doorway, Aunt Petunia slammed the door shut. Taking Mrs. Witchett's hand, Harry looked up and down the street more than a couple times before concentrating on his destination and the sensation of being pulled through a rubber tube came over him.

Arriving on the street just outside the front door of the Leaky Cauldron, Harry saw Draco holding open the door and Sarah still holding his hand, her face giddy with anticipation. Harry released Mrs. Witchett's hand and led the way into pub. Both Sarah and her mother seemed to handle apparition quite well though they were at least a bit woozy.

"So we're in London now?" Mrs. Witchett asked.

"Yes, the Leaky Cauldron, more specifically," Harry clarified. "It has entrances to both the muggle and wizarding world so people without access to magic means of travel can reach Diagon Alley, which is the best place in the world for finding supplies for school."

Harry feared that with the war, Diagon Alley and the tavern would be deserted, casting a very bad impression for the Witchetts. More than he had dared hope, it turned out to be quite crowded indeed. Nearly two dozen witches and wizards were sitting at the various tables; eating, drinking and the mood seemed reserved, but oddly content. A number of faces turned towards him and broke into wide smiles at seeing Harry Potter enter the room. Now in darker days, this reaction was obvious enough even for Harry himself to pick up on. Draco smirked coldly. He had never failed to notice it before. Even before the idea of "The Chosen One" came about, people always tried to stand taller when he was around as if to be worthy to be in the presence of the Great Harry. Draco had always preferred knocking Harry down as opposed to raising himself up.

"So good to see you again, Mr. Potter," said an elderly witch who stood not much taller than Harry's waist. He nodded and proceeded towards the back door being greeted by several others, happy to shake his hand. At one point, he glanced backward and saw Draco quietly saying something to Sarah that made her giggle. For some reason the phrase, 'Saint Potter' popped into his brain and he pushed onward. Harry couldn't wrap his head around why so many people were out and about with the war going on. It was rare last school year that someone wasn't killed or disappeared every week or two and the attack on the school should have just made everything worse. Tom the bartender gave him a curt nod from his normal position behind the bar, which he returned with a smile. They had just made it past the crowd when a deep voice yelled, "Harry!"

All four turned quickly to see the approaching figure. Harry noticed that Draco's hand had automatically reached toward his wand. All thought of danger passed as Harry was wrapped up in a hug and lifted several meters up in the air by a sniffling Hagrid. He muttered, "So good to see yeh, Harry. Dumbledore sent me ta keep a look out. Just in case of trouble."

"Well, everything seems to be pretty quiet here," Harry mentioned quietly as the large man set him down gently. "Why is that?"

"Ah, things slow down for a bit and every so-and-so forgets about their problems," Hagrid answered. "But things been good lately. Ain't been hide nor hair of You-Know-Who or his followers since the night after the, yeh know, attack, when we went to get Malf—"

Hagrid paused quickly when he saw Draco flinch slightly at the name. The giant began muttering an apology, but kept stuttering when trying to call the young man "Mr. Potter" or "Potter." Harry tried to break out of the awkward situation by saying hello to a tall, lanky wizard walking past them. In the end, Draco coughed into his hand and spoke, "I believe 'Draco' will be fine, Professor."

Hagrid nodded and smiled. It was a kind, full smile that acknowledged that this was the first time Draco had ever used that title while addressing him. Of course, Harry didn't think Hagrid knew how to smile in any smaller or less honest fashion. Harry motioned to his left to introduce the Witchetts.

"Hagrid, this is our neighbor Melissa Witchett," Harry said as the half-giant turned his attention toward Mrs. Witchett. "Ma'am, this is my very dear friend Rubeus Hagrid. He is the groundskeeper and caretaker at Hogwarts and the professor for the Care of Magical Creatures classes."

The kind woman tentatively extended her hand while trying not to stare awkwardly at the four meter tall man with a too long and shaggy beard. Hagrid attempted to clean his dirty hand by wiping it on his messy jacket, then gently took the offered hand and shook it firmly.

"Pleasure, Mrs. Witchett," Hagrid said. "I didn't know there were any other magic people livin' near Harry."

"Oh, I suppose I am a… muggle, I think the term is," she explained.

Draco stepped forward with his companion and added, "This is her daughter, Sarah."

"Hello, Mr. Hagrid. I'm actually a witch," she exclaimed. "I got an owl saying I was accepted at Hogwarts and then I met Harry and Draco and they told me all about it. I think it will be quite smashing."

Hagrid turned his head down at her and returned the wide smile she had on her face. Sarah was most giddy about finding out Hagrid was a half-giant. She had to crane her neck to see his eyes. Even if Hagrid was still twice Harry's height, he didn't seem as opposing a figure as he did six years ago. Perhaps it was the years of friendship or that the sight of him was far more common. But watching the wonder in the little girl's eyes seemed to transport Harry back to that night on the small island with the Dursleys. It was a night without as many concerns when his first friend showed him hope for a whole new world.

Since his brother seemed content to stand in place with a stupid smile on his face, Draco pushed him forward towards the back door and said, "Well, let's clear off and get to it."

Harry still felt as if he was eleven again when Hagrid led the way out of the back door and tapped his umbrella against the proper bricks to open the wall into Diagon Alley. The streets and shops were not as overfilling as they would be right before a school year started, but there was a good-sized crowd. There were several groups of students walking around though none Harry remembered very well.

"Early bird shoppers," Hagrid announced as they made their way down towards Gringotts. "Letters were sent a few days ago and since then been right like the way it was in 'appier times 'round here. Anxious ta' get back ta' the old days."

"The old days?" Mrs. Witchett asked.

"The days before You-Know-Who came back," Hagrid answered quickly. Harry and Draco both winced slightly. They were both uncomfortable with the recent memory of him and the fact that they had been consciously avoided the subject around Sarah and her family. It was as if they felt safer around people who didn't know the horrible things they had seen and done in the war thus far.

"Who is that, the person you were telling us about?" she asked. Swallowing a breath, Draco replied, "Yes, Lord Voldemort. You'll find that almost nobody in the wizarding world calls him by name. He was always effective at terrorizing people into submitting to his leadership… I understand that better than most. But I think the time for fearing him is over. Don't you agree, Harry?"

"Yes," Harry agreed, nodding. "If we're going to defeat him, we shouldn't lower ourselves to those names of terror he likes to give himself. Even _Voldemort_, is just another of his lies. I think Tom Marvolo Riddle is really afraid of himself. Especially since he's always running away from who he is. But let's not talk about this stuff today."

Mrs. Witchett nodded as she looked at the tall white building with pillars before them. The trip down the street moved slower for Harry then they had in years. Sarah insisted on reading the sign out front and having them explain exactly what goblins were and how they protected the vaults. Harry indulged her curiosity a bit more eagerly than Draco, who had grown up surrounded by all this knowledge and didn't know what it was like to experience it all at once at eleven. It also gave them a chance to notice McGonagall and Moody trailing them from a distance. Harry caught sight of them first and a nod later and Draco caught on as well.

"I'll head down to the vault to get our money," Harry mentioned to his brother.

Hagrid walked over to a counter with Mrs. Witchett, who was still worried if the money she brought would be enough when transferred into wizarding money. But before long, she was nervously handing her money over to the goblin teller and Sarah was convincing Hagrid to lift her up on his shoulder. Draco stood back a bit and found himself quickly nearly knocked to the ground by a rushing person.

"Pardon me, sir," a small, frazzled looking wizard with long white hair muttered. He was quickly turned around when a goblin yanked on his robes.

"That Destructative Curse that misfired on Vault 539 isn't going to fix itself, Collins," the goblin said, sharply. "Get on it."

"Mr. Dripsnow, you have to understand that I've never… I mean, this is a very difficult curse," Collins whispered. Luckily, Draco had plenty of experience in listening in on the conversations of others. So he heard Collins continue, "This is really Weasley's sort of thing. Why can't Bill do it?"

"Because…" Dripsnow paused and started leading the wizard away from the customers. Having heard the name Bill Weasley only convinced Draco to try and hear more. He recognized that name. McGonagall had been talking about him when he arrived back at Hogwarts. It was Draco's fault. He let Fenrir Greyback into Hogwarts and he gave Fenrir the opportunity to maul an innocent man, someone risking his life to protect children. Swallowing his guilt, Draco casually walked after them, but more off to the left as if heading toward Mrs. Witchett and continued to listen in.

The goblin continued, "Instead of leaving for their wedding and honeymoon, Weasley and that Delacour girl of his quit with no notice. Said they have other plans for after their honeymoon. Left us in a lurch with just you around."

The wizard grumbled at this comment, but the goblin continued, "I see why the Egypt always raved about him. The best blooming Curse-Breaker I've seen in 200 years."

As they walked through a doorway, Draco could no longer follow them. He turned and headed back towards his group. Mrs. Witchett was clutching her new bag of galleons and talking with Hagrid, who had a small blonde girl up on his shoulders. Just as he reached him, a cart zipped to a stop and a woozy-looking Harry stepped out tentatively. He handed one of his bags to Draco and held his stomach, saying, "Every year and I never get used to that. How do the goblins do it?"

"Their diet includes Fire Soup, turns a normal stomach into near solid rock," Draco answered without hesitation. "Nobody ever told you that before?"

"I suppose I just never asked," Harry said.

As all five started walking towards the front door, Draco leaned close and explained what he had overheard just a moment ago. Harry stayed close to Draco and whispered, "We have to remember to get a wedding present while we're here."

Draco nodded curtly and wiped some sweat off of his brow. Harry remembered the events of the earlier summer and supposed Draco would have no qualms about anything Harry wanted to do for Bill after his encounter with the werewolf. Even with all he learned about Draco this summer, he still found himself surprised that he didn't shirk from his responsibility or grief for that night. Upon exiting Draco motioned to a few seedy glares Harry was receiving from the direction of Knockturn Alley.

"I think it might be best to separate and make better time," Harry said. "Hagrid and I will start on this end of the street with Mrs. Witchett. We can get the books at Flourish & Blotts and stop at the cauldron shop. Draco, why don't you and Sarah head back towards the Leaky Cauldron and stop by the apothecary shop and such."

"That's fine," Draco answered for all the others. "We can meet at Madam Malkin's. I can't have my brother wearing used dress robes. Here, take our supply lists. I need books for the five cores, Ancient Runes and Care of Magical Creatures."

"Taking my class again, eh—Draco?" Hagrid asked with a smile. Draco nodded and took Sarah's hand, leading her away from Knockturn Alley and the others. So Harry, Mrs. Witchett and Hagrid walked off towards Flourish & Blotts. Harry kept his right hand near his wand pocket the entire time.

The two groups met up just less than three hours later in front of Madam Malkin's Robes For All Occasions. Harry was rather shocked when he saw his brother approaching holding a cage. Sarah ran up to her mother and hugged her.

"Look, Mommy," Sarah said, grabbing Mrs. Witchett's hand and dragging her toward Draco. "She's a present from Draco and I named her Georgiana. Doesn't she look rather wonderful?"

Harry examined the short-eared owl for a moment. Though somewhat larger than Hedwig, Sarah's new pet was still not nearly as large as Nicodemus, a fact Mrs. Witchett seemed very relieved by. Harry would certainly say that Georgiana was a curious bird. She had a puffed out chest with large yellow eyes that darted around quickly at every person passing. When Mrs. Witchett leaned forward and kissed Draco on the cheeked, he flushed a bit pink and insisted, "It's from Harry as well. And now she can keep in touch with you during the school year and with us wherever we are. A good and quick-witted owl can find just about anybody you want."

Upon entering the shop, Harry quickly picked out what he considered to be the least silly dress robes he could find. He for the first time in a while sneered at Draco a minute later when his brother walked out only wearing an even better pair of black robes with gold trim. Far from insulting, they were bloody charming. Of course, Draco insisted that Madam Malkin charm them to a silver trim. After they finished purchasing their robes for the year, a task not assisted by either Sarah's boundless energy or Draco's pickiness, the five companions found themselves standing outside a boarded-up Ollivander's wand shop. Harry had heard of their being other wandmakers, but he had never thought there was much use in settling for anything besides an Ollivander's wand. He had seen a good number of wands purchased last year after he disappeared that had all failed to impress.

"What do you recommend Hagrid?" Harry asked. "We have to get Sarah a wand. Definitely not at that Burgess' Wands. The first years that had them last year had a dreadful time with them. We need a good one, nothing's more important."

"Nothing?" Sarah asked.

"Of course not," Draco replied. "The wand that chooses a witch or wizard is the best wand for them. It says a great deal about the person. Take Harry's for example. It's eleven inches, just like my wand and our father's. What's the wood there?"

"Holly," Harry replied twirling the wand in his fingers, "and it's very supple in its handling with a phoenix tale feather core."

"Another similarity between our wands," Draco continued in a lecturing tone. "Mine is pine, which is also an evergreen. It isn't just another similarity between brothers. Evergreens symbolize a strong person, the type who can last through long, hard winters. Pine is a bit more sturdy in its handling and not as precise as his, but it's a useful good all-around wood. Though my wand has a dragon heartstring for its core, which I admit is a bit obvious given my name."

"But it's also very powerful and magical like my feather core," Harry interjected. "My friend, Hermione, is a very great witch and she has a dragon heartstring as well."

The discussion of wands only excited Sarah and made her even more anxious to have one, but failed to bring them any closer to actually finding one for her. It was Hagrid who noticed the new shop just around the corner, "Reckon we could try this place. As good as any other, I figure."

Sarah led the way towards Ringley's Wands. The paint on the new sign seemed to have run before it dried, making it appear as if the blue lettering was leaking into the red background, leaving purple streaks beneath the name. This shop was much smaller than Ollivander's with mostly empty shelves and very short rows. Ollivander's was stuffed full of possible wands. So many that it was almost a given that every witch or wizard in the world would find a perfect match. In here, there were hardly any wands at all sitting around and Harry thought they made a bad choice almost immediately. Draco had a similar uncertain look on his face. As they entered, a young man of no older than 25 came bounding up an aisle to greet them. He wore an enormous cocky grin and long mane of lime green hair. Sticking his hand out to greet each of them, he introduced himself with a noticeable Irish accent, "Well, my first customers, it's quite an honor, mates. I'm Conrad Michael Ringley and welcome. How many wands will it be today?"

"Just the one for my daughter, Sarah," Mrs. Witchett replied.

"It's my very first wand," Sarah stated with the same grin that she had worn all day.

Conrad smiled widely and led them over to a glass counter with dozens of wands sitting in it and several empty place holders near the top. He explained, "Well then this wand will be the very best for you. And seeing as it's also my first wand sold it will be my best as well. So between the two of us, I think this will work out quite sweetly. I keep the stock in the back room. We'll materialize a few here for you to try out. Let's see, first we'll try something from south of Spain, an African variety and perhaps something from the Americas I think."

Waving his own wand, three dirty boxes appeared. Conrad removed the lids and Sarah touched the first wand for only an instant before the shopkeeper yanked it out of her hand and shook his head. He nodded toward the middle wand, which was a deep red color. Sarah hadn't even touched it yet when Conrad vanished it and shook his head again. The third wand Sarah picked up and it shot a blast of sparks at the young man who dived out of the way. While hiding Conrad swung his wand again and the still smoking wand disappeared out of Sarah's hand.

"Maybe something a little closer to home will be better," he suggested and a single wand appeared in the middle placeholder. It was a brown wood with shadings of light green. Sarah picked it up and swung it back and forth leaving a bright yellow trail of light behind it. Very impressed with that effect, Sarah continued trailing the light around and after a moment tried to write her name with the light before it ran out.

"Aye, that's the one," Conrad said definitively. "Lilac wood, nine and three-quarters inches with the hair from a female unicorn's head and handles nicely. It's just right for you, young miss. I'd bet you'll do quite well at transfiguration and dueling with this wand."

Sarah turned around and both Harry and Draco nodded their approval. It sounded like just the right wand for the girl. Hagrid also smiled at the interaction. It might not be an Ollivander's wand, but it should do just fine. Mrs. Witchett paid the six galleons and five sickle price quoted by Conrad and Sarah led the way out swishing her new wand to and fro.

Hagrid treated the group to dinner back at the Leaky Cauldron and bid Harry and Draco a fond farewell before he left for Hogwarts. Once again Harry and Draco each took one of the Witchett girls' hands and then a moment later they reappeared back on Privet Drive.

Sifting some of the many bags around in her arms, Mrs. Witchett said, "It was a lovely day, lads. Thank you both for accompanying us, although next time I think we might try driving."

"It's alright, apparating takes some getting used to," Harry answered sheepishly.

"I'm going to miss you," Sarah said while looking at the ground. "Can we really not see each other for a whole month?"

"I'm sorry, Sarah," Harry quietly responded as he knelt next to her. "Just remember if you need anything you can send Georgiana with a letter and we both promise to write after next week to let you know all about the wedding."

"You promise?" Sarah asked, glancing upwards.

Draco quickly answered, "What did I tell you about Saint Potter? He always keeps his promises. And he's so bloody annoying, I suppose I'll have no choice but to go along and write something too."

Sarah smiled at this and started across the street with her mother, then turned to ask, "Will you send the letters with Nicodemus? I'd like him to meet Georgiana."

Behind her, Mrs. Witchett severely shook her head back and forth. Clearly the large, off-putting bird was not something the Witchetts wanted banging on their windows. With a smirk, Harry interjected, "I think we should send Hedwig. She hasn't got to deliver anything all summer and is probably awfully lonely. Plus, she's about Georgiana's size, so they might get along better anyway. Trust me; she's a lovely snowy white owl."

Slowly, Sarah nodded her head and waved farewell before heading back toward the front door of Number Seven with her mother.

"Remember," Draco called after her, "you can read your books, but absolutely no magic until you get to school. I won't be here anymore if the Ministry checks on any uses of magic, so they'll know it was you. Don't forget what I told you earlier."

Sarah shook her head and winked at Draco. With a careful smile, Harry turned to his brother and asked, "Do I want to know what sparkling advice you gave her?"

"I simply said, 'Never break a rule… at least when somebody is watching,'" Draco answered with a wide grin. He turned and headed towards their house. Harry slung his bag of textbooks over his shoulder and raced ahead of Draco, saying, "Are you deliberately trying to prejudice her to your house?"

"Well, I can't have her end up in Hufflepuff," Draco added. "Besides, if half the stories Dumbledore told me are true, you Gryffindors aren't famous for valour, courage _and_ following the rules."

Sitting in their bedroom that night, Harry wrapped the Searching Rings they had purchased for Bill and Fleur that day. Whenever you put the gold chains around your neck, the ring hanging from it would be drawn to its mate. It seemed a good way to find someone you lost and a rather sweet gift for two people in love to wear. Draco meanwhile sat at the desk, reading through _Incredible and Impossible Transfigurations_. Harry looked up when he heard some scratching of quill on paper and saw Draco was not writing in his journal for once.

"What are you writing?" he asked.

Turning around Draco held out his book. Harry was reminded of the Half-Blood Prince's potions book. Draco had already begun writing notes in the margins and around the edges and underlining passages he apparently thought important. However, Harry couldn't decipher any of the notes. They were all written in some unfamiliar shorthand that didn't seem to make any sense, at least to him.

"Back in first year, Professor Snape encouraged me to take diligent notes and understand the textbooks at least as thoroughly as the author," Draco explained. "It just seemed better to keep all my notes in the book itself. Easier to find you know. So I developed my own type of shorthand. You should see some of my books from OWLS fifth year. By the end of term they were so marked up even I couldn't make heads or tales of them at times."

"And yet you still managed to end up in seven NEWTS classes. If I didn't know you better I'd think you were showing off, Draco."

"Me, Potter? Never."

They both turned in for bed early that night, expecting a rather eventful birthday in the morning. Harry did think it was a bit unfair that Draco was getting two this year, but found it in his heart to forgive the cosmic injustice. He drifted off to sleep thinking about the friends he missed and would be able to see in the morning. As far as he knew, none of them knew about Draco. He thought of Ron's reaction and whether or not anyone would accept Draco. He thought about playing Quidditch in the back yard with the Weasley boys and talking about the upcoming school year with Hermione. Then he dreamed about Ginny.

_ A/N: I apologize for the incredibly long length of this chapter, but it has been awhile in coming. Thank you for all the reviews and bookmarks so far. Please let me know what you think of the story. I certainly hope you enjoyed the time we just spent with Draco and Harry, but now its off to the Weasley home and bringing the rest of the crew in. And I think I hear wedding bells just two chapters off._


	6. Through the Looking Glass

**CHAPTER FIVE: Through the Looking Glass**

Harry's dreams of Ginny were interrupted that night by a far less enjoyable vision. He seemed to find himself in a great empty valley. Alone and... cold. The wind was cold, as if in a deep winter. There were no snow-covered fields though, only long, flowing grass whipping wildly in the wind. Only a few years earlier, a boy of Harry's height would have been buried under the long blades. He took a step forward into an open field where the great fire burned before him. Still it seemed he fell back into an even deeper cold. Harry turned his head around to and fro. Behind him he observed several faces that he most assuredly did not want to see. Most of the dozen faces were hidden from view behind the masks of Death Eaters, but one unhidden face was easily visible in the flickering firelight. Wormtail groveled closely off to Harry's left side. The only thoughts racing through Harry's mind besides the sheer terror of his situation were trying to remember how badly he had always failed at Occlumency.

Voldemort had invaded and manipulated his mind before and Sirius Black died for Harry's failure. The dark truth, the fact that bore much dwelling on was that if he could be taken into Voldemort's mind remotely, than the same . Old lessons from Snape came flashing back: attacks of Legilimency could uncover lies, read memories and emotions and give a near insurmountable edge in dueling. And Voldemort and Dumbledore were the most skilled legilimens in the world. Only the very most controlled wizards could fight these two off. Snape had deceived and fought off Voldemort. Harry just wanted to get away from this sense of dread. He tried to bury the things he cared about. He couldn't let Voldemort hurt people because they were close to him. If he discovered someone Harry loved, he could attack him through them. If he discovered Ginny—

"Is it done, my Lord?" Wormtail asked. "Have you made contact with the boy?"

Harry found himself without control of his body. Smiling with a cruel manner he had never used before and nodding. He couldn't think about--- things. He had to shut down his mind. But he had never succeeded before in separating emotions from memories and blocking someone out. It was too hard. Only great wizards had managed it. No student except—NO – Draco.

He was absolutely certain what happened the moment it occurred. His mind dwelled on Draco in the open for an instant and Voldemort pounced and slithered his way in. Harry felt his scar burn. No, not his scar, but his mind. It was not like it was with Snape. It was like a drill powering its way through the back of his skull and out the other side. It was pain and anguish of a severity he couldn't remember. This attacker didn't care about doing damage along the way. And one thought was there that Harry could not force himself to let go of: Draco.

He knew what was happening. Voldemort got everything. Every emotion and memory from their first meeting in Madam Malkin's to their long standing feud to the night of the attack on the school and every event and trip down memory lane since was all Voldemort's now. And Harry just knew, KNEW, that Riddle didn't know any of it before. His memories were stolen and nobody could reveal the truth to him. He hadn't remembered on his own yet.

The truth about the Potter brothers was no longer a secret. And Wormtail smiled as he seemed to hear something that Harry couldn't.

"Did you find the secret? The one you wanted, Master? What does Potter love?"

And then the drill started digging again. It was probing, looking for something else. As if his mind was all laid out on a map, Harry knew where the probe was headed. It wanted to find out who he loved. He didn't know about _her_ yet, but he wanted too. Voldemort could feel a great love within Harry and wanted to know who it was. He found the spot and started digging. Harry imagined himself putting up more walls to replace those torn apart. But he wasn't fast enough or strong enough. _No! I have to do something!_ He was failing. Voldemort couldn't have her. He couldn't have—

"GINNY!"

Harry was no longer surrounded by Death Eaters in an empty field. He was back in his own little bed, breathing heavily and sweating. He was awake and Voldemort didn't find what he was looking for. Harry found that he was unable to breath. Unable to concentrate on anything, all he knew was that he had to find out if Ginny was safe. He found he was soaked in his own sweat. She had to be safe. She had to—he… He couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't…

"_Lumos_."

A bright light filled the room and Harry felt a hand grip him by the shoulder. A voice seemed to be calling for... something. It was still a good distance away, but it was too insistent to ignore for much longer. "Harry?" _Did it say Harry?_ "Harry, breathe. You need to breathe. Harry! POTTER!"

Draco had started shaking Harry, apparently just violent enough to bang his skull into the headboard. For an instant, Draco thought his brother had lost his mind. Draco found his own breath catching. The idea of being alone once again was rising out of his stomach like bile. Harry hoped the pain in his head was from that jolt and not from something… someone else. The pain seemed to fade away and with it, he found he was able to breathe again. He wasn't in a field. There were no Death Eaters. His mind was his own for the moment. He was in his bedroom at Number Four and the only other person there was someone in a physical body. Draco was standing over him and holding his shoulder firmly and as Harry blinked a couple times, the grip released a bit.

The only source of light in the room was Draco's wand. It grew softer when Harry ran his hand across his face and finally came all the way back to consciousness. Draco was staring at him and obviously wanted an explanation. Taking a pair of deep breaths, Harry reached over and retrieved his glasses from the bedside table. Feeling better, he began to explain, "He came into my mind. Voldemort found out everything I know about—about you. I couldn't… stop him. Then he started digging for… for Ginny. My love for her almost… If he found she would—I can't do it."

After a moment, Draco leaned down and asked, "Do what, Harry?"

"Love her," he answered as tears started trailing down his cheeks. "As long as he can find out how I feel, who… who I love, then I can't be with… anyone. I have to save her… I need—need help. I can't be alone again."

A tight scowl quickly formed on Draco's mouth before he walked away to his trunk and threw on a t-shirt Harry had bought him the week before. For six years, Draco had spent many a day complaining about how easy Harry Potter had things. The perfect Gryffindor life was a delusion, a lie, a mistake of a petty boy. For all his perfect friends and perfect teachers and lucky, famous and worshiped life; Harry was maybe more lost than any of them. He was raised by people who detested his existence, considered his presence barely tolerable. Those close to him were constantly in danger or killed outright. Draco looked back into Harry's eyes and decided it was time for him to do… something. He knew that losing Ginny would hurt Harry. It might strengthen the resolve for the warrior that would face the Dark Lord, but it could destroy the boy in love, the boy Draco was just getting to know and against his own beliefs, was coming to care about. Even if he still hated the Boy-Who-Lived; his brother... Harry, was quite another matter it seemed.

Retrieving Harry's wand from the bedside table, Draco pulled the dark-haired young man up by his unruly mane and forced him to sit at the desk chair. Sitting in front of him Draco responded, "So we don't run away. This is something I can help with. Snape started teaching you Occlumency, correct?"

Harry nodded, "He tried a couple years ago, but I… I wasn't very good."

"That's to be expected, knowing you."

Harry raised an eyebrow at this. Draco smirked and continued, "Don't take it as a complaint. More than any type of magic, legilimens and those who defend against them are prisoners of personality. A true pursuit of knowledge requires cunning and purpose. To hide an emotion or memory, you have to be able to compartmentalize everything. Not care about anything, even wanting to protect it just draws attention. Once again a person must become clever and detached. This isn't power we need to develop, only a very foolish man would describe it as such. You must learn control, not strength; subtlety – a blunt sword will do nothing for us. And in my experience, Harry Potter has stumbled through these last six years acting like the very big blunt sword he is."

"Why couldn't Snape just explain it like that?" Harry asked with a smile.

Returning a grin, Draco thought about his old potions master, "I think he preferred for his students to learn his methods as well as his lessons. Well, let's talk about things."

"Things?"

"Well, we can't just cast spells," Draco answered. "We need to teach you a new way to think about things… at least when you need to defend yourself."

Harry took a deep breath and began, "I know you never liked her, but the thing about Ginny is…" For the remainder of the very early morning, Harry explained to Draco his entire relationship with Ginevra Weasley; from her early days of hero-worshiping him that earned Draco's scowl to how she made herself into a most funny and remarkable woman. It was that time apart from Ginny, the fact that he had tried and fail to date… to love other girls first that made how special this was stand out. They were perfect foils. He was strong for her. She was brave for him. She was the only person who never demanded anything from him. But she demanded he be him, the man she loved. That he be Harry and nothing else. Her love was simple and unconditional. After three hours, Draco grew tired of hearing about the many and occasionally inappropriate for brotherly discussion ways in which Harry Potter loved Ginevra Weasley. He moved the conversation over to Harry's other friends, starting with Ron and Hermione. Draco had never understood, or cared to understand the relationship between them. He always thought of them as Harry's lackeys, but it was so very different from what he had with Crabbe and Goyle. They were true equals and almost as important to the cause as Harry himself. Ron was the brother Harry never had; the one Draco could have been had fate given them another life. Hermione was… Draco didn't dwell on her much moving the conversation onto other topics. Then they discussed Cedric, Cho, several of the students who joined Dumbledore's Army, the members of Order of the Phoenix.

But there was still the turning point that was needed. Draco knew how all his lies came undone. When faced with Dumbledore, the fear was the motion that tore his mental walls apart. To survive, he explained, one must detach emotions. Fear, Love, Sorrow, Joy: these were merely emotional markers that made reading a mind no different than navigating a map of Hogsmeade. At six in the morning, they returned to bed. Harry wasn't sure how he managed to fall asleep. He would close his eyes and see pale, grey skin, black eyes and slits for nostrils.

He hardly felt like he had been asleep at all when a scream filled the room and his eyes blasted open as he heard, "_Legilimens!_"

Draco stood before him with a cruel glint in his eyes. And a hammer began pounding in his temples. The pain wasn't as strong as with Voldemort or Snape, but it was there. And it was effective. Draco pushed in here and there, never going deep, but gaining entrance nevertheless. Harry concentrated on their conversation from that morning. Phrases like 'not caring' and 'raising walls' and 'compartmentalizing' all came to mind.

Like the night before with Voldemort he pictured his mind as a map and raised the walls around it. He kept Draco out. Then he started pushing harder and Harry fell apart slowly, but surely. He heard something through the fog, "what can you do with things in a compartment? Control the field of battle Harry. It's your mind." and Harry concentrated on the walls. But something was different this time. Harry opened his eyes and saw Draco nodding. This time there were walls within walls. There were divisions within the borders. And as Draco pushed deeper and deeper, he hit a strong wall. On the other side of this wall was a beautiful girl with long red hair and a quick smile.

Draco started breaking through and then everything changed. The landscape of the mind altered and the walls rearranged themselves. Draco was now nowhere near Ginny and burrowing through a memory of Aunt Marge's dogs. It was no longer a battle of pushing on walls. Now it was a chase. Harry would keep rearranging his mind, but Draco would follow without fail. And then it stopped. Harry opened his eyes and saw Draco writing in his journal.

"Don't get too dim, Harry," Draco said without looking up. "I'm not nearly as good at Legilimency as I am at Occlumency. Also, I took it easy on you. It was a rather weak attempt at defeating me."

Smiling, Harry asked, "Did I do anything right?"

Draco put down his quill and turned around. He said, "You woke up and fought back. You took control of your mind, your life, in a way muggles and most wizards never do."

"Is that something?"

"It's the first step. And now you get to help me take mine."

The first step for Draco would come in just over four hours when they left Privet Drive. As big a moment as it was for Harry, leaving the Dursleys for most likely the last time, he remembered it was a significant step for his brother as well. The secret of Draco Potter was no longer that of three members of the Order and his brother. The Dark Lord and many of his followers would know by now. And he was taking his first steps into a very large wizarding world. A world that he had made no small effort to degrade and torture for the majority of his lifetime. The fact that he was taking that step into the home of Ron Weasley was giving him no small amount of discomfort. The slightly younger Potter brother hoped Draco would make the effort with Ron that he had made with Harry, Hagrid and the Witchetts. It would not be an easy day for anyone.

But it was what the Dursleys would call a 'glorious' day. All their long years of abnormality and suffering at the hands of the spawn of Petunia's strange sister finally would come to an end today. There had, in all the 16 years of meals at this home, never been a meal like this Saturday breakfast. Petunia was up early and preparing a meal that was in Harry's opinion fit for the king of Privet Drive. She prepared a traditional fry-up with bacon, eggs, sausage, mushrooms, toast, black pudding and sautéed potatoes with freshly squeezed orange juice. Uncle Vernon was in an especially good mood, humming a tune as he sat at the head of the table and read his morning paper. Petunia had just finished the place settings when Dudley barreled past Harry and Draco on the stairway, knocking the other boys to the side. Draco raised his wand after Dudley practically shoved him over the railing, but Harry caught him saying, "It's the day they become free from us. Let him have it."

Draco smirked and said, "Only as a gift to celebrate my last day among the muggles."

Vernon's humming only faltered a little as the Potter boys sat down to breakfast. Of every meal in the last 16 years that Harry had eaten here; none had come as close as this one to rivaling the Hogwarts cuisine and in fact, none had appeared more like a happy normal family breakfast than this one. As he began scooping various foods onto his plate, Harry glanced up when Draco made a point to ruffle his _Daily Prophet_ pointedly. Harry matched Draco smirk with a smile of his own at the front page story. The moving picture was actually a shot of himself, Hagrid and Mrs. Witchett in Diagon Alley outside of Flourish & Blotts with a headline reading, "Chosen One Promotes Safety of Diagon Alley."

"Must be nice to help make the world so much _brighter_," Draco said without looking up. The Dursleys were determined not to let the Potters ruin their perfect day. If they could ignore them for another hour or two, it would be over. They simply increased their own noises to drown out Draco and Harry. Dudley let his mouth hang open more than usual as he chomped on his potatoes and eggs. Petunia took up humming the tune that Vernon had abandoned and Vernon "UGN-HMMM" cleared his throat and turned the page of his paper. Draco smirked at the reactions he was able to create and Harry had to shove a spoon-full of black pudding into his mouth to keep from laughing aloud.

After the meal, when they stood up to leave the room, Harry found to his complete and utter shock a hand grabbed his arm. Aunt Petunia held him in place as if studying him, forcing a memory into her mind. Draco, perhaps more than the other, could understand the complexity of disliking a person and loving them at the same time. Her other hand found its way to touching the cuff of Draco's shirt. He saw a bit before Harry did; that Petunia would most likely never see this part of her family again in her life. She might not have been sad to see her sister's children leave the home she shared with Vernon Dursley, but for good or bad there was going to be a hole. After she released them without saying a word, Draco and Harry went up to their room and started packing the last of their clothes into their trunks. Harry bit his tongue when Draco threw several of his brother's shirts into his own trunk.

Harry was folding up several pairs of dirty socks and throwing them in his trunk when he heard a steady tapping sound from the window. Draco opened the window and Georgiana floated in and offered a letter to them. Harry picked up the letter and the owl floated over next to Draco's owl, already secured in his cage for the trip.

"Georgiana, this is Nicodemus," Draco introduced, as he gave the Witchett owl a treat. "You should listen to him. He's very good at catching mice."

"Dear Draco and Harry," the raven-haired Potter read aloud. "Mummy and Dad and I all wanted to say goodbye. Hope you have fun at the wedding and write us soon. See you on the train, Sarah."

"Here send this back," Draco said as he handed Harry the paper with Mrs. Witchett's moving image on the front.

"Is there any bad news about—"

"The war? No, it's fairly upbeat. The Ministry is trying to drum up more business and _happy feelings_."

Harry wrote a brief reply and attached that and the copy of the paper to the short-eared owl's left leg and lifted it towards the window. The bird took off across the street and Harry thought how odd it was to send an owl with a letter for someone just right next door. Harry and Draco both shut their trunks at the same time. Harry adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose and said, "I'd suggest we go say good-bye, but I'd hate to ruin their day."

Draco smiled and threw his journal and charms book into his over-the-should bag. Setting Nicodemus' cage on top of his trunk, Draco looked up, "So how exactly are we getting to this Burrow place, since I have no idea where to apparate to?"

"Well, luckily you're traveling with a genius," Harry replied when Draco broke out into a wide smile. Before Draco could retort, Harry called out for, "Kreacher!"

A moment later an ancient surly-looking elf with gigantic bloodshot eyes and a hooked nose appeared in the middle of Harry's bed with loud crack. Immediately he started furiously shaking his head and screaming at the top of his lungs, "No! No! No! Won't help evil, spoiled mean Master. Hate Master!"

Draco plopped on his own bed and replied, "I bloody love this house elf. Where'd you get it?"

"Kreacher, here," Harry explained, "is the house elf for the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. I inherited him when Sirius… when he passed."

"Old Master betrayed Mistress! Got what he deserved! Deserves to rot like new Master should!"

As Draco rose and pointed his wand at the elf, Harry interrupted, "Just shut up Kreacher. You are forbidden from ever, EVER saying anything cruel about Sirius ever again!"

Kreacher plopped down on the bed and wailed as if he was just robbed of his favorite past-time forever. Harry supposed it was the equivalent of somebody forbidding him from playing Quidditch ever again. But now was not the time to put up the old monster's attitude.

"This is Draco Potter, you are to serve him just like you do me and I order you to be loyal to both of us," Harry continued as Draco lowered his wand. "You will take our luggage to my friend Ron's house. You can get it there, correct, Kreacher?"

"Kreacher could, but Kreacher don't want to…"

"That's beside the point," Harry nearly yelled. "Just do it and return immediately to Hogwarts!"

With another crack, Kreacher disappeared along with both the trunks and Nicodemus. Harry slinked down in his chair and explained, "Hermione actually feels bad for the little monster. I suppose it wasn't fun being locked alone in Grimmauld Place with the insane portrait of Sirius' blood-fanatic of a mother for a dozen years."

"Trapped alone with pureblood fanatics. Sounds familiar," Draco dully added. After a moment Harry cracked a smile and rolled over on his bed howling with laughter. Draco used his wand to fling several pillows at Harry, who began chocking on his own laughter. Harry started to calm down and added, "I never thought of it this way before, but given the similar upbringings, I suppose he's living proof of how well you actually turned out. Ready to go meet the Weasleys?"

Draco's hint of a smile disappeared and his face turned colder, "Not especially."

"Well, then you'll really hate having to be side-alonged there," Harry said as he stood up and offered Draco his hand.

Draco looked at it for a moment and drawled, "Careful Potter, people will say we're in love."

Harry released his brother's hand and hit Draco's shoulder firmly and chastised him, "Don't be like that. And don't worry about them. The Weasleys are some of the best people I've ever met. We'll explain it to them and they'll accept you."

"Really?"

"I'll make them," Harry smiled and said, "Except Ron won't listen and nobody in this world can really control Fred and George, so watch out for them. Also, expect Molly to fret over you something fierce when she finds out what happened to you."

"I don't want that."

Taking his hand, Harry said, "The other option is staying with the Dursleys—"

"Let's go!" Draco interrupted, standing a little taller. A moment later, the bedroom faded away and the next image before them was a tall and old building rising up high in the air. They were about 40 meters down the road from the Burrow and directly in front of them were their trunks with the lids zapped open. A small mini-tornado was tossing their clothing and possessions up out of the trunks and into the large, muddy field across the street from the house.

"Damn Kreacher!" Harry yelled, as he vanished the tornadoes and followed Draco, who was chasing after their clothes. Draco had started zapping objects and sent them flying back to his trunk. Harry noticed something and yelled, "Hey those are my pants!"

"Damn it, Potter. Let's just get them before they end up in this mud hole hovel of a—"

"What's that about a hovel, Fred?" A tall red-haired gentleman standing in the middle of the muddy field asked.

His identical twin walked up next to him and looked at them, "Don't know, George. You smell a git? Ah, a git in disguise."

"I don't remember inviting you to the redhead's club, Malfoy," George added.

Harry jogged up next to Draco and greeted the twins, "Morning boys, seems old Kreacher isn't as dedicated to serving me as loyally as I'd like. The clothes—"

"Are fine Harry," Fred interrupted. "Mum just had us out here solidifying the mud for the big bru-ha-ha next week."

Sure enough, the clothes and papers on the ground were not caked in any of the thick mud. They simply landed on top of it as they would a piece of concrete. Harry and Draco continued zapping their own belonging into the correct trunks as the Weasleys advanced towards them.

"What we're more concerned about," George added, "is the very unusual looking Malfoy you've got there with you."

Fred added with a smile, "We know the invitation said you could bring a guest, but we were hoping you'd prefer to dance with Ginny."

"She probably looks far better in the dress," George added with a smirk.

Harry nodded uncertainly at them. His brother was staring at him, his brown eyes peeking out between clumps of messy auburn hair. Draco was waiting for him to take the lead, so Harry swallowed the dry lump in his throat, smiled at the boys and spoke up, "Well, there's a long story involved, but I'd rather only tell it once. Is everyone else here?"

Fred slowly nodded and replied, "Ginny is up in her room with Mum and Fleur finishing work on the dress. Bill, Charlie and Ron are cleaning out the garden gnomes and Dad's clearing out his shed to hold more guests. Guess where Ron and you are sleeping?"

"That'll be fine, but let's get everyone in the kitchen for a minute," Harry said. "They'll all want to hear this story."

"We can use our latest project, 'Hopping Home Helixer,'" Fred said.

George smiled and explained, "We slipped it in the pumpkin juice last night. It's for mothers with unruly kids."

"Wonder where we heard of that," Fred added.

"Anyways we cast the spell at the kitchen table and everyone who drank some in the last day comes home," George finished.

"Good idea," Harry said with a smile.

"Well," Fred answered, "we had to finish some work. Haven't been in the shop all week getting ready for Bill and Phlegm's big day."

George nodded and with two whipping _cracks_ they disappeared. Draco was magically reattaching the lid of his trunk and locking it. When Harry came up next to him, Draco didn't look up, but instead whispered, "This won't go well."

"You're on our side now," Harry answered. "Besides, I started to sort of not hate you. The Witchett's just adore you. The Weasleys really are good people."

"Well, you've always been a push over and I didn't spend most of my life terrorizing Sarah and her parents. And you can't seriously expect me to sleep in some filthy shed with Weasley. He hates me almost as much as I hate him. None of them will… They won't… I should just go back to Hogwarts for the rest of the summer or—"

"And who's going to teach me Occlumency? And who's going to stick up for you? Like it or not, we're stuck together. Do you honestly think I'm anxious to tell them the story? Let's just put paid to it."

"You really want me around?" Draco's disbelief obvious.

"Despite the incredible headache I'm about to earn for you... yeah. I don't really want to go back to not having a brother."

When he walked through the kitchen door to the Burrow, Harry saw that Fred and George had already gathered all the other Weasleys and Fleur at the table. Harry noted that Percy was still absent, both at the kitchen table and in the family picture, while Draco noted the suspicious or angry eyes that were pointed at him. Harry silently thanked the heavens that none of them knew Draco's role in Bill's injured face.

Draco was in fact staring at the scars covering most of the left side of the eldest Weasley child's face. It didn't look like he could ever smile fully again and his eye couldn't blink, so it instead stared piercingly at whatever was directly in front of him. The silence was broken by Ginny who stood up and ran to Harry, jumping into his arms and hugging him tightly. She kissed his cheek and whispered, "Missed you."

Harry squeezed tighter at this and unconsciously started raising his mental shields. As if he noticed this action, Draco gave him a poke in the shoulder and quietly said, "You're safe for now, Potter," seeing the faces of Ron, Fred and George Weasley, he added, "I think your concern for the moment should be with me."

Harry noticed the rest of the Weasleys and nodded. Releasing Ginny he greeting them, "Hello, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, everyone."

"Hello, Harry dear, sit down," Molly said. "And your... friend… Mr. Malfoy can sit to. Did you have something to tell us all?"

"Right," Harry said, taking a seat, "It's a bit of a long story. So, I suppose I should start at the beginning."

And Harry told them everything he had discovered from Dumbledore and the photo album. Mostly they took it quietly and calmly with occasional looks of astonishment. When Harry finally finished the story of their last trip into the book, his eyes were wet with unshed tears. Draco sat next to him with his head staring diligently into the table. After the story, the entire table sat in a disbelieving silence. Harry summoned the large white book from his trunk and opened it to the first page he had seen, the one of the four Potters with Lily's beautiful writing at the bottom. The same white flashes he had experienced a month ago flashed across nine other pairs of eyes.

The silence continued to stretch out. Ginny was sitting across from Harry and pulled the book towards her. She and Ron started flipping through it. It was Molly who broke the silence with a muffled sob. Arthur put his hand on his wife's shoulder and looked at her questioningly.

"Molly, are you—"

"I… I remember," Molly said. "I never… met either of you, but my brothers. Before they… they… they talked to me about going to the hospital. They didn't say much, just that… that… They called you, 'James and Lily's perfect boys.'"

Fleur and Bill were down at the other end of the table, whispering quickly with one another. Fred and George stood and walked behind their mother and eyed Draco suspiciously. Charlie sat on Harry's right side across from Ron. He just had a confused look on his face and set his hand on Harry's shoulder. Draco sat frozen in his seat, resting his head in his hands. Ron was the next to speak and he did so while staring at Harry.

"You can't say you believe this, Harry," he began. "It's a spell. A trick to make you trust him. How can you sit there next to him and tell me… ME, that you believe this?"

"Ron, it isn't a lie. He's my—"

"Don't you bloody dare say it! He was the absolute worst from the first day you met him. The things he's said and done to you, TO HERMIONE, to me and all of us, to Dumbledore and everyone else. How can you just accept this blindly and—"

"Ron," Ginny interrupted, "Harry told you what Dumbledore said and what Mum said and—"

"No. This is MALFOY. This is the same Draco Malfoy who thinks I'm Weasel and you're Weaslette. Harry is Scarhead. My entire family is a bunch of dirt-poor blood traitors. Dumbledore's an old fool and Hermione is… is…"

"A mudblood," Draco finished, as the table went silent and stared at him. "I've done all that and worse…"

"Draco—" Harry tried to interrupt, but Draco stood at the table and continued, "I tried to get Hagrid fired and his hippogriff killed for no good reason. Because I was a stupid child and everything I was taught, everything I believed, taught me that they didn't matter for anything. I've tormented Potter endlessly. I—I—I sided with Lucius and Narcissa and every belief they taught me, I embraced. I sided with Umbridge in fifth year and am as responsible as anyone else for Sirius not being here. If I hadn't have stopped Harry from talking to Snape, then Sirius would… I have stood in front of Voldemort and called him 'My Lord.'"

Most of the table still flinched at the name, even Ginny did slightly. Draco continued on as tears broke out of his eyes and slid down his cheeks. "I took the assignment to kill Dumbledore. I used Unforgivable Curses. I nearly killed Katie Bell and accidentally poisoned you, Ron. I let the Death Eaters into Hogwarts and bear the fault, the full fault, for what—for what happened to your brother."

Molly gasped and let out a cry. Fleur clung to Bill to prevent him from standing up as rage boiled in his eyes. Harry found himself crying again and bent his head back up to Draco, who only pushed onward, saying, "I disarmed and nearly killed Dumbledore and Snape, one of the most valuable men in the war against Tom Riddle is dead because of a vow to protect and help me. For all these and a million other crimes I've spent a single month looking at a book and crying over it."

Ron stood up and said, "Then prove to us you aren't working for him now, you bastard. Can you? What are you doing here? Why are you here?"

"Because he has nowhere else to go," Harry said without looking up.

"Pot—Harry, just—"

"Just what? WHAT! Let you send yourself to burn; to become an outcast. You self-righteous bastard, why did you have to say anything? I'll never forgive you for putting me in this spot."

"You aren't in any spot! I'm the traitor. I failed… I failed them. We should just go our separate ways."

Harry stood up and announced, "I knew everything he did and I've forgiven him. He is my brother and my family. I can't go a separate way because I can't abandon him anymore than I could Ron or Hermione or Ginny. It took me time to accept what Dumbledore told me, but Draco did change. He fought at our side that night and the fact is the professor would be dead if he hadn't made the right choice. He's in our fight, on our side now. And you don't get to call him Malfoy anymore, Ron."

Ron looked at Harry with his mouth hanging open. Grasping Draco's shoulder and holding him in place, Harry continued, "He's my brother. His parents were James and Lily Potter and I know… I KNOW… he feels the same empty pain that I do. Nobody gets to call him the name of that… that thing that stole him from me. He should have grown up with me. Life with the Dursleys should have been more bearable because we went through it together. He should have met you on the train with me Ron and we all should have been best friends that year. The four of us should have been a team. Everything Draco ever did to you is his responsibility, but not his fault, not his alone. This is Draco Potter and if he isn't welcome here, then I can't be."

"Harry—" Molly began.

Bill stood with Fleur by his side and interrupted her, "No, Harry. We get to decide who attends this wedding. And… and seeing as how it happened to me, nobody can hold against Draco something I'm willing to forgive him for. We would be please to have you both attend."

"We weesh for both of you to attend. 'Zat would be lovely," Fleur added with a smile that Harry couldn't help but return. She lowered her hand into Bill's and gripped it tightly.

"But—" Ron started to say, but was interrupted by Molly whose face was flushed red.

"Harry, why don't you and Ron and… and Draco go finish cleaning out the garden. Arthur will take your things to the shed after he finishes cleaning it out."

With this Arthur nodded and started out the front door accompanied by Charlie. Bill and Fleur walked into the living room leaning close to one another and they began whispering to each other again. Ginny smiled at Harry and followed after the happy couple. Ron hurried out the door to the yard followed by Harry. Before Draco got out the door, Molly called after him. Fred and George were now on either side of her with a hand on her shoulders.

"We love Harry very much," she said. "I love him like another son. You have a great deal to live up to Draco Potter. You had better work every day towards earning so special a brother."

He nodded, though it felt to him a hollow gesture, and went out into the garden, picking up the first gnome he saw and tossing it over the stone wall after Harry's most recent attempt. He remained silent throughout the exercise, leaving it to Harry to make things better between him and his best friend.

"How has your summer gone, Ron?" he asked. After several seconds with no response, he continued, "We actually have a new witch on Privet Drive. A muggle girl named Sarah Witchett received her first Hogwarts letter."

Ron's only response was a guffaw. Harry decided to keep pushing the issue. "We went to Diagon Alley with her yesterday. Hagrid was there as well and he sends his best. But she's quite fond of Draco—"

Harry was interrupted as a garden gnome smacked him in the side of the head. Draco muttered an apology before turning back to look for another. If it took a thorough gnome-beating, he would force some subtlety into the dark-haired Potter. Harry picked up the offending gnome and winced when it got a snap at his finger. A moment later, Ron started talking, "So are you a champion of muggle-borns now, Malf—"

"Don't Ron, please."

"Well, I'm not calling him Draco. What do I look like, Crabbe?"

Draco laughed at that without looking away from what he was doing. He mentioned, "If nothing else, feel free to revert to calling me ferret, Weasel. They'll be our little pet names for each other."

Harry knew better than to chuckle at the face Ron made to that final comment and instead tried to pull off Draco's old expressionless mask with little success. Ron went back to his work and muttered something under his breath. Ten minutes later, Ron grew tired of the silence and said, "Ginny got six OWLs. Played all humble at it saying she owed her O in Defense to you and the DA. Luna was over the other day and we were talking about how we should start it up again, since the war is on and all."

"I don't know, maybe," Harry answered. "How is Luna?"

"She's fine," Ron mentioned with a slight blush and a quick look downward. Harry leapt on this quickly and pounced, "Are you two—"

"Lords, Potter, you really have no tact do you? Leave Weasel and Loony alone," Draco said.

"He can say whatever he wants!" Ron yelled, his face even redder before adding, "Not that you're right or anything. She and Ginny have just been helping with the wedding plans. She and her Dad live just a bit of a walk away and they agree to put up most of our relations. And you won't be insulting her, Ferret. She's been perfectly lovely about being a friend to us all and helping board everyone. Hermione will be here for dinner and Fleur's family is coming up on Monday. Oi, Get this. They don't all approve of Bill. Can you believe that?"

"What's wrong with Bill?" Harry asked.

"Beats me, must be a French thing. I hear the only one that really supports the wedding is her sister, Gabrielle. She was the one with the crush on you fourth year, remember her?"

At Harry blushing, Draco commented, "You and the women Potter, it's a bleeding feat of magic."

"Well, I suppose my good luck is easy to account for now that we're related," Harry joked.

"Oh, yeah, a regular prince, him," Ron argued in a highly sarcastic tone. "But speaking of girls, you could have written more to Gin. She missed you something awful. Been bloody depressing around here since you sent that one letter."

"I'm sorry," Harry answered. "I've thought about her every day. It's actually been a bit of a problem. I… you see it… last night… well—"

"Out with it Potter," Draco interrupted. "Just tell him."

"Voldemort did it again. He got into my mind and he was looking for somebody he knew I loved. He almost… he almost found out about Ginny. I just woke up in time."

"Is she alright?" Ron asked. "I mean will You-Know-Who find out about her and… and hurt—"

"No," Draco said definitively. "We spent the rest of the night practicing Occlumency. He's coming along fine enough."

Harry thought Draco was becoming a bit too certain in his assessment. And perhaps he was being a bit too bold with Ron, this might not go—

"You're teaching him!" Ron screamed. "I swear if you are lying. If you hurt anybody again, I'll… I'll have at you, you sad twit."

Draco's only response was to chuck another garden gnome across the field. After another moment of silence, Draco asked, "Is this how your mother gets rid of you when she doesn't want to deal with you, Ronald?"

Both the other boys were shocked into silence. The idea of Draco using Ron's first name was as unbelievable as anything Harry would have thought could happen. Figuring it was an insult, Ron retaliated, "Just because your Mum was a bloody evil, killer Death Eater, doesn't mean mine don't want me around."

"I never said that," Draco replied coldly as he walked to the fence and waved his wand silently. A gnome became stuck halfway towards walking back through, unable to proceed any further. Draco yanked it loose and dropped it just on the other side.

He added as he looked for another gnome, "You Mum had an enchantment on the field to let the garden gnomes back through. She just used it as a chore always present when you were out of hand."

Ron's mouth fell open. Draco walked right up to him and stared at him. A moment later, he said, "And my Mum wasn't a Death Eater. She was a member of the Order of the Phoenix and a muggle-born witch… and… she was good and lovely. She was just… just absolutely perfect."

Rather than pushing Ron any further, a perfectly acceptable idea that Draco had to fight his baser urges on for a bit, he walked off and yanked up a gnome, wincing from a fresh bite. The three finished in silence and an hour later the garden was cleared. Ron might not admit it to the Ferret, but he was infinitely happy that he wouldn't have to do that again, but stayed quiet. Harry went over to the fence and looked over. Nearly two dozen gnomes were pushing and taking turns running at the Weasley's garden border only to bounce off it and roll back towards the forest. Ron called to him, "Oi, Harry! Come get cleaned up. Mum wants to do your presents as soon as Hermione gets here."

It was just starting to rain as Harry followed Ron inside. Draco carried the last two gnomes to the fence and dropped them on the other side. Just then he remembered something he wanted out of his trunk and jogged over to the Weasley's shed. There was a tall pile of muggle junk leaning against right side of the shed, including one of those dreadful television things Vernon was so fond of watching and several boxes labeled 'Aero-plane Magazines.' Inside the shed, there were three cots packed tightly together. On the middle was the Potter photo album. Draco sat down quickly and found his hand opening the book.

He hadn't admitted to anyone except Harry how much he had come to depend on the book for a touchstone to... well to himself. It was the undeniable proof that fought back his own internal screams that he didn't belong. So engrossed in the picture of Lily attending a Quidditch match in her fifth year, Draco didn't take notice of the tall wizard in the back of the shed walking towards him. Arthur Weasley was just exiting. Looking at Draco, he said, "Oh, sorry son, just finishing up. Seem to accumulate quite a bit of merchandise. But most fathers do that."

"Speaking of that," Draco answered as he flipped through the photos to his favorite. Lily was sitting in the park holding him up under the arms. He went on, "In Malfoy Manor, walk up to the portrait of Lucius' Great Uncle Dante and say, '_ianus_' to reveal the dungeons. You should find more than a few valuable tools of the Dark Arts."

"Thank you, Draco," Arthur replied. "I'll arrange some Auror investigation first thing Monday."

With that he turned and walked back to the house quickly, leaving Draco alone in the shed. With one last look at Lily's smiling face, he stood. Squeezing in between two of the beds, Draco opened his trunk and moved things around looking for it. The rain was now panging off of the roof of the shed, but at least the room was enchanted to stay warm. After a couple minutes, he found the small paper bag that he had been searching for. Draco shoved it in his back pocket and closed the trunk with the photo album inside.

Outside the rain had started coming down fiercely. Draco raced up the road to the front door, but had barely gone two meters when there was a _pop_ and Draco ran into something and tumbled down into the muddy road. Sitting up on his knees, Draco wiped mud out of his eyes and spoke up, "Sorry."

Standing up, he offered his hand and helped up the other person. The bushy brown hair gave away the identity of the traveler even before her voice began rattling off in a manner that annoyed Draco to no end, "Malf—sorry… I thought you were someone I knew. My fault actually, I haven't apparated that many times. I should have concentrated more on the destination. I suppose the weather didn't help. It was clear skies back home."

Draco simply nodded. Of all the meeting this week, this had been the one he had been dreading the most. Now that it arrived, he found himself tongue-tied, unable to even look at the shorter witch. Hermione looked confused as she lifted her trunk with a wave from her wand and it started towards the kitchen door. Without a word, Draco bent over and picked up her cat carriage. He started walking with a wide, quick gait the rest of the way back to the house. She quickly followed after him.

"Thanks, err…" she paused, waiting for a name. Draco figured that between the hair and eyes, the smoothed features and the mud, she couldn't figure out who he was. He opened the door for her before answering. "Draco."

"What!" she exclaimed.

"Hermione!" Harry called from the kitchen, racing over and lifting her off the ground with a tight hug. "How have you been? I hope Ron explained why I couldn't write. I'm awful sorry. I guess you met—"

"Malfoy?" she asked. Harry nodded and took her hand leading her into the sitting room, the trunk floating after her. Draco decided it would be best not to follow them. He had already heard the story one too many times today. He didn't need to hear it again for Hermione Granger.

Instead he took a moment to scourgify himself and then set down the carriage and opened it. Crookshanks took a brief swipe at Draco's hand on his way out before running to sit under the kitchen table. Seeing an open book at the table, Draco sat down and began reading. He might not have found the bloody things as interesting as a certain witch did, but he at least admitted they were a convenient and useful way to pass the time. About twelve recipes into _One Minute Feasts – It's Magic_, Draco looked up and saw the smashed faced cat staring at him. Grabbing an empty bowl on the table, Draco turned back three pages in the book and cast, "_Bovis_."

The bowl filled with milk and Draco nodded his approval before turning back to the page he left off on. A moment later, he heard the milk being licked up by the cat and without looking, Draco reached out and rubbed the ginger-haired neck. Turning the page, Draco came upon a fairly simple spell for mashed potatoes and gravy. An hour later, Draco felt he had figured out the basics of the spells in this book and looked for another. Not that he ever intended to use these spell for something as mundane as serving, but it was a way to be more self-reliant. He hated how dependent on others he was becoming. It was just tying him to these people even more. _And if nothing else, knowledge is freeing_. He chuckled at that thought, a concept he felt he had a somewhat unique perspective about given recent revelations.

He was about to walk over to a shabbily constructed shelf for another book, when he looked down and found he was absent-mindedly petting the snoozing cat in his lap. Chuckling to himself, Draco looked up to see Harry walk into the room.

"Well, I figured you'd make at least one friend, but honestly I was hoping for a person," Harry joked. "Um… Mrs. Weasley wanted to do presents for my birthday. I wanted to include you, since, well, I picked you up something the other day."

"Why, Potter, you little wanker," Draco replied. "I always knew you were a sick bender."

"Well, I suppose I could give it to Ron…"

Without another word, Draco lifted the sleeping cat onto his shoulder like a young baby and followed Harry into the living room. Harry sat on the old blue couch with Ron and Hermione sitting on either side of him. Bill was sitting in a recliner with Fleur sitting across his lap. Fred, George and Charlie were sitting across from the couch on wooden kitchen chairs. Arthur was in his old rocker and Ginny was curled up on the rug in front of Harry, looking up at him adoringly. Luna Lovegood was there sitting on the floor whispering to Ginny with her back leaning against Ron's legs. Molly was sitting on another kitchen chair pushed up towards the couch next to Hermione.

When Draco entered, she rose and said, "Think I'll get dinner going. Save our present for last and call me, Arthur."

"Of course, dear," he said, standing long enough to give her a quick kiss. A moment later Draco sat in the empty seat and placed Crookshanks back in his lap. Hermione gave him a pointed stare and he quickly set the cat down on the floor on the other side of his chair. Draco was avoiding the girl's curious gaze and wishing they would bloody get on with it. Just a flash of her face and Draco saw through the questioning look to the judgmental one underneath it. Hermione might have been able to disguise it better than, say… Ron, but not entirely. Not from a fairly perceptive person who had a six year history of learning her face.

"Right," Fred began. "Well, we're first, Harry. Here you are. Cheers." George passed over a large box from the shape it was quite obviously a new broom. Harry opened it and went wide-eyed at the shining new Firebolt Mark Two. Fred explained, "Even more speed, control and starting and stopping power than the old model. It won't be released to the public for another four months."

"How'd you manage—"

"Tut, tut, Harry, those methods are strictly top-secret," George said, "especially with the Slytherin Seeker in the room."

Draco returned a cold smile to the other set of twins and silently feared having to race that broom to the snitch in a few months time. It was bad enough when Harry was cruising along on a standard Firebolt. Charlie went next. He had gotten Harry a necklace with a dragon tooth. He explained, "Since you probably weren't going to pierce you ear like that weirdo, Billy, I thought a necklace would be better."

"I zink 'e is quite handsome," Fleur said, stroking Bill's cheek and kissing him.

Ginny groaned and shook her head, saying, "They've been like this all summer. Here, Harry, me next."

Smiling widely, Harry opened the small package to find a pin of a Gryffin. He leaned down and kissed Ginny before attaching it to his front breast pocket. Luna had gotten him a miniature tambourine. Apparently, she thought it would jingle if something called a broblax was nearby. Draco started to laugh, but tried to cover it with a cough. The stern look from Harry and Hermione and the murderous one from Ron and Ginny meant he hadn't done a good enough job. Draco figured he would be called up on it when Luna stood and walked over to him.

"I heard it's your birthday as well," she said, "so I thought you might like one as well. I always keep a spare around."

Careful not to offend anyone, Draco shook her hand and said, "Thank you, Luna."

She smiled warmly and nodded before returning to her spot on the floor and adopted a far-away look in her eyes as she glanced out the window and then back to Harry. Draco placed the small useless charm in his shirt pocket. Ron had gotten him a moving figurine of Ben Weshley of the Chudley Channons. Apparently, they shared some joke about Victor Krum which earned a stern look from Hermione.

"Here, Harry. Happy Birthday," Hermione offered him another present, which was obviously a book. Draco only thought that it figured for her. Harry tore it open to reveal _Greats of Hogwarts Quidditch_. Harry gave her a quick hug of thanks.

Taking the book from him, she started turning the pages, she added, "I knew you'd want to see this."

Harry smiled warmly and motioned for Draco to lean over and look. Instead of leaning over Hermione, he stood and looked down at the book. At first Draco supposed Harry was showing off about himself, but then he realized the player in the picture was a Chaser. It proclaimed James Potter as one of the greatest Chasers in the history of the school. Before sitting again, Draco noticed that the only person who hadn't given Harry a gift were the Weasley parents.

"Molly, it's our turn dear," Arthur called out. Mrs. Weasley walked in wearing a white apron caked in flour. She lifted two packages and set them on Harry's lap. The first was a homemade red sweater with a lion on it. Realizing he was in a room with nearly a dozen Gryffindors, he gave no indication whatsoever of the laugh he wanted to release. The second was a box of chocolate bars. Harry rose and hugged Molly and shook Mr. Weasley's hand.

Reaching into his back pocket, Draco stood up next to his brother and said, "Well, here's just… Happy Birthday, Harry."

The rest of the room was deathly silent as Harry sat down and opened the bag. Ron and Hermione slinked away from the package, fully prepared for it to explode. Of course, the only thing that slid out of the bag and into Harry's hand was a Golden Snitch. A few moments after it landing in his hand, it activated zipping away from his grip. Like he had seen his father doing in their memories many times, he reached out and caught it. The silence only grew deeper when Harry stood back up and hugged Draco. His brother was caught off guard; they have never done something like this in front of anyone who wasn't just a memory. He shortly returned a couple soft pats on the back.

Harry picked a tiny box off the floor and handed it to his brother, adding, "Happy Birthday, Draco." He smiled and sat back down, uncomfortably noticing all eyes in the room were on him. Except for Luna's, which were sort of floating in his general area. Draco took the top off of the box and found a strange old key. He looked up puzzled and Harry explained, "I had them combine the gold in our parent's and Sirius' vaults at Gringotts and split them evenly. Your vault number is 711. It used to be Sirius'. I figured it was yours anyway. The spell is the only thing that kept you from your inheritance, so… well, cheers."

Draco swallowed a lump in his throat and nodded, placing the key in his pocket. Kissing Harry on the cheek, Molly announced, "Dinner's ready everyone. Will you be staying Luna? It looks awful outside."

Ron and Ginny both answered for her, "Yes, of course she is."

Molly smiled and led the way into the kitchen, followed quickly by Arthur, Charlie, Fred and George. Ginny hopped up and grabbed her boyfriend by the hand leading him away. Before they left the room, he released the snitch and went to catch it, only to be beaten to it by Ginny. She smiled and whispered something in his ear, that made him blush as red as a Weasley head. Ron followed them closely with a perturbed expression. Bill and Fleur went next hand-in-hand. Draco bent over and picked up a purring Crookshanks and rose as Luna walked past him.

As he was about to leave, he heard, "Stealing my cat, Potter?"

"What did you call me, Granger?" he turned and asked Hermione.

"Harry told me the whole story and apparently I can't call you Malfoy and Ron has claimed Ferret for himself and I WON'T call you Draco, so it's Potter," she explained so if it was the simplest decision ever. Slowly, she rose and walked up to him. She was nearly eight inches shorter than him, but still managed to seem imposing just by her air and manner of walking. Taking Crookshanks from his arms, she leaned close and added, "I don't trust you for an instant. If you hurt Harry or any of these wonderful people, I'll make it my mission in life to hurt you back, understand?"

"Crystal, Granger," Draco said before turning heel and walking into the kitchen.

_A/N: thanks for catching my mistake, kiwidynamite, the chapter has been edited to fix the error. Thank you to all the glorious reviewers. Oh, and the rest of you as well._


	7. A Wizarding Wedding

**CHAPTER SIX: A Wizarding Wedding**

The next few days weighed heavily on Harry. He was overjoyed to be among so many friends back at the Burrow. After Ron beat him in several games of wizard's chess, they spent most of the day Sunday playing Quidditch over the field across the street. Charlie, Fred and Ginny played against Harry, George and Ron. They left the snitch locked up and just played with a Chaser, Beater and Keeper on either side. Harry took a couple of good shots from the bludger, sent his way by a grinning Fred. At least he was pretty sure it was Fred. The game was near tied around three in the afternoon when Bill flew up to join them. However, the sudden disappearance of the groom brought the attention of Mrs. Weasley on the game.

"What in the world are you doing!" she bellowed from the ground as every broom froze in place. "You'll break your blooming necks a week before the wedding! Bill Weasley, you get down here and back to your bride, right now."

Dodging another bludger, Bill grimaced and headed towards the ground. Mrs. Weasley then added, "And look at Harry! He's all black-and-blue. That's it for the day. Ron, go clean out the garden gnomes."

While Fred and George rounded up the bludgers, Harry zipped down with Ginny and Ron, who told his mother, "Don't worry, Mum, we fixed the fence so they can't get back in."

Ron's smile grew even wider at his mother's disbelieving expression. Her expression softened and asked, "So how did you figure that out?"

"Draco cast some containment spell on the fence," Harry explained. Mrs. Weasley nodded and started after Bill towards the house. Harry hadn't actually seen Draco all day. When he and Ron woke up at nine, Draco was already sitting up in his bed writing in his Care of Magical Creatures textbook. He hadn't come to breakfast and it seemed they had skipped lunch. Ron punched him lightly on the arm and said, "Let's go. We can get in another game of chess before dinner and the Channons game against the Arrows is on the wireless tonight."

Harry smiled and followed Ron up to the house. They quickly rushed through the bustling kitchen without being seen or, even better, asked to do anything. In the living room, Ron began setting up the chessboard. Harry noticed Hermione was looking up from her tattered old copy of _Hogwarts: A History_ and glancing around the room every couple of minutes. Harry leaned over and asked her, "What's the matter, oh Head Girl?"

"Hmm," she answered, blushing lightly. "Oh, nothing, really. I just haven't seen Crookshanks all day. I was starting to get worried."

"Maybe, Mal—I mean, Ferret kidnapped him," Ron said while quickly finishing his side of the board. "Where is the git hiding?"

Harry shrugged his shoulders and Hermione coughed and then answered, "I think I heard him getting something from the kitchen around 10, but he must be hiding out."

"I suppose, wouldn't you if you were at his house, probably swarming with Death Eaters now," Ron said.

Harry rubbed his eyes and decided to just try and change the subject. Maybe if they just ignored the subject, they would get used to him being around. "So what time is the game tonight?"

The idea of the evil git Draco Malfoy becoming some decent human being wasn't going over that well in the Weasley household yet. Arthur and Molly had been a bit more open to accepting him than Harry had been hoping. Even more since the attack on Hogwarts, Bill and Fleur have kept more to themselves, sharing opinions in quiet whispers to only one another. Charlie kept his opinions to himself, but was wary of the stories he had spent years hearing about the mistreatment and cruelty towards his younger siblings. Fred and George had never cared for him at school and were slow to forgive past insults. Memories of insults of Molly would never really be forgotten.

Ginny at least kept quiet about any possible concerns out of respect for Harry's feelings. Ron avoided the topic with a fiery determination. More than anyone he was torn between his absolute hatred of Malfoy and his utter devotion to Harry. As much as he wanted to complain, he tried to bite his tongue on the worst of it. His greatest fear was sparking another row like the one that nearly tore him and Harry apart in fourth year. It was a bit of a rarity, but Hermione kept her opinions to herself. Insulted worse and more often than the others, she had the most to get past. But she always prided herself on being a fair and forgiving person. And she saw… something different in him. _Can a person remake themselves?_

Draco had in fact been out in the shed alone all day, reading his schoolbooks. He was the last one to arrive for dinner, marching silently in the door and taking his seat. Hermione visibly bit her lower lip when she saw Crookshanks follow him in the door before walking towards the living room. The silence in the room didn't last long and soon everyone at the table was deep in their normal conversations. Harry tried to involve Draco, but he would offer little more than a grunt or nod or one word answer and the rest of the table became noticeably quieter whenever he was asked to speak. He declined Harry's invitation to listen to the game and instead went directly back outside towards the shed.

The next couple of days followed the same pattern. Draco avoided both breakfast and lunch, but Hermione heard him sneaking in to grab something in-between mealtimes. She had quite a battle pushing down her own curiosity to speak with him. Harry had a great time with the Weasley brothers and even managed to find a few quiet hours to just sit and talk with Ginny. For a time he was able to forget the terrible attack last Saturday morning. After dinner on Monday, Harry went out to the shed to try and spend time with Draco and encourage him to make more of an effort to become friendly with the Weasleys, but he was back in his old habit of ignoring everything around him and losing himself in his books. He did manage to spend some time tutoring Harry in improving his Occlumency skills. Tuesday and Wednesday passed much the same with Draco. Except for the unfortunate incident where a set of Wildfire Whizbangs went off just under his cot and forced him out into the yard. Harry noticed that Fred and George were suspiciously hovering near him and giggling the rest of the day.

The Weasley house became even more crowded shortly after lunch on Wednesday when Fleur's parents and Gabrielle arrived on the floo. Harry actually didn't feel that bad about being cramped in the shed given the stuffed full condition of the rest of the Burrow.

Mr. and Mrs. Weasley slept in their small room on the ground floor. The next level up, Fred and George had a room that Mrs. Weasley insisted always had a third bed in it in case Percy arrived. A fourth bed had been added the other day for their older cousin Reginald, whose red hair was much darker than any Weasley that Harry had previously met. Ginny, Hermione, Gabrielle and Fleur all shared the larger room on the second floor. Bill and a pair of his friends from his Hogwarts days shared Ron's room at the top, just under the attic. Charlie stayed in Percy's old room just off of the bathroom and Tuesday he had to share it with Mr. Weasley's older brother Romanus and his wife Marietta. And now Mr. and Mrs. Delacour were sleeping on a bed in the living room that was transfigured from the old couch.

All this wasn't counting both families extended aunts, uncles, cousins, Fleur's grandfather, friends of both from their school years and even a few employees of Gringott's. A goblin who supervised Bill a couple of years back came all the way from Egypt to attend the ceremony.

The last to arrive the day on Friday and then on the morning of the ceremony would be the wizard performing the ceremony and the members of the Order of the Phoenix. The Weasley and Lovegood homes were both stuffed beyond capacity, while more guests were staying in muggle hotels in the city. Some few were apparating in the morning of the ceremony, but most came early to visit with old friends and family.

With so many people present, many of whom knew nothing about him, even Draco came out of his shell a bit. He had a long discussion, in French, no less, with Mr. Delacour about the international magic community, particularly concerns the war was generating abroad. Harry had never thought before that as great and destructive as it was in England, the remainder of the wizarding world remaining blessedly untouched by it.

As dinner was winding down, Harry grabbed his brother's arm and asked, "Why didn't you tell me you were bilingual?"

"Because I'm not."

"Then how we you just speaking—"

"French? Because I speak it, as well as German, Latin and Greek, but Granger speaks the last two as well."

"She does?" Harry glanced briefly in her direction. She was busy politely listening to Romanus describe his wizarding construction company based in York.

"Almost all the advanced Ancient Runes students understand at least one of the ancient languages."

"Wow, my brother speaks four languages. Don't I feel sophisticated."

"I speak five languages."

"No, you said four."

"No, five."

"You said French, German, Latin and Greek. That's four."

"I dabble in a bit of English from time to time."

"Oh… right."

After dinner Thursday, Harry took the opportunity to take a long walk with Ginny, alone. She seemed very excited about her sixth year at school and was overjoyed that it hadn't closed. Harry went to bed that night in the middle cot happier than he thought he had a right to be.

Several hours later, his eyes came into focus on a pair of hazel ones seen dimly over the light of a nearby wand. Again Harry felt as if a hand far larger than Hagrid's was pushing down on his chest preventing him from taking in any air. Another face came into view and Harry recognized Ron talking to him, but couldn't seem to hear the words for all the ringing in his ears. A few terrifying moments later the hand released his chest and he took in a great gulp of air.

"Harry, are you alright, mate?" Ron asked, sitting on his cot with him.

"It was…"

"What did he see Harry?" This was Draco's voice now, Harry recognized; determination trying to push back… concern or… terror. His brother was still able to glare into someone just as effectively as he could before his eyes changed color. Hazel or grey, there was a great force behind his gaze. Harry lowered his head into his hands. He felt completely exhausted. They must have been fighting for hours before he broke free. Looking over at the clock, Harry noted the time was just after two-thirty in the morning. He would have slipped back into sleep if Draco had not shaken his shoulder and repeated, "What did he see? Stay awake and tell me."

"It was… a memory…" Harry paused another moment and allowed his breath to catch up with him. "From second year, when we saved Ginny from the basilisk. But that was all. I woke up right after."

Ron pushed Draco's hand off of Harry and said, "Well, that isn't so bad Harry. You-Know-Who already knew about all of that, so he got nothing new."

"Yes he did," Draco explained. "You were at it for a long time. It was longer and harder than before right?"

Harry nodded and listened, "He knows you can fight him, maybe hold him off entirely soon. He'll try again the next time you fall asleep before he loses the advantage forever."

"So show him how to do it!" Ron yelled.

"Not that easy anymore, Weasel," Draco spat back. "He knows we've been hiding something from him and working hard at it. He knows that he broke into something important. That memory means either Ginny was the thing you were trying to protect or maybe…"

"I know what the diary really was," Harry finished.

Draco nodded, "As much as you want to protect the little red-head, it would be just as bad, far worse in fact, if he found out you or Dumbledore knew about his Horcruxes. It may force him to do something before we're ready."

"So worst case he comes for Harry while he's still immortal, best case he kills my sister!" Ron exclaimed.

"That won't happen," Harry defiantly stated. "Nothing happens to her. If I have to… to put away all my feelings for her, I can't let her die. What do we do?"

Ron looked around for a moment, by nature waiting for Hermione to offer a solution, instead Draco spoke up, "We refine your technique a little more. We have to play it carefully. Set-up a memory that will lead him away from Ginny and the diary and toward something else, but you can't make it too easy to find or he will know you're tricking him. Let him just get that by the skin of his flat nose and then shut him down completely."

"It could work," Ron said.

"It has to work. I suppose another memory of him, maybe make him think I am afraid of him," Harry suggested. "But it can't be in the graveyard. Nagini was there and he might catch on."

A moment later it came to him, "At the end of first year, I met him while he was possessing Quirrell. It was the first time we met and… I admit I was afraid. I had never faced anything that terrible before. Would that work, do ya think?"

"If you sell it well enough and then shut him down for good, then it might work," Draco answered.

"Remember to control your feelings. What you feel with the memory is just as important as what is seen. It has to be a great fear, tied to the emotion of the other memory, like a marker."

"How does he do that, Ferret?" "By taking what he's already learned to the next degree. You had some success at blocking him out and some success at compartmentalizing and hiding your emotions and feelings. You're still a long way from stopping someone right in front of you, but when he tries to do something over the connection between you, it sets him at a disadvantage from the start. Make him fight for it and find only what you want him to and then…"

"I put up my best shields, try not to care about anyone or thing and hope—"

Draco shook his head and interrupted, "Don't doubt yourself. If I can do it than so can you."

As tired as he was, Harry couldn't get to sleep. Instead he sat up talking about the Quidditch season with the others. Draco had no idea how anyone could support a team as completely awful as the Channons. Harry reminded them that their Dad did. He finally fell back asleep after six in the morning. Ron had already passed out at the foot of his bed and Draco was lying back on his, fading quickly. Closing his eyes, Harry hoped he was ready for what came next.

"POTTER, OPEN THIS DOOR RIGHT NOW!"

Harry jumped up in bed just over an hour later. He was even more tired than before, but the walls of the shed were pounding and something told him it wouldn't stop until he opened the door. He somehow managed a smile at his accomplishment. Beside him, a voice growled, "Did you do it?"

"Yes, I fought him, gave him the memory I wanted and shut down," Harry said. "And it worked too. Everything you said worked and I can't believe we dodged that—"

"I've slept for three hours in the last 25, just say, 'yes' and answer the bloody door," Draco muttered throwing his arm over his eyes. Ron mumbled something and rolled over on Harry's bed so that his bum now pointed straight upwards. Harry noticed Draco was lying on his back and curled up on his, _well actually Harry's_, shirt was a purring ginger-haired cat.

_That explains the pounding on the door_, Harry thought as he opened it to a disheveled and furious Hermione, "I knew it! Damn it, Potter!"

"What did I do?" Harry muttered as he rubbed his eyes and turned to look for his glasses at the other end of the bed.

"I'm sorry, not you Harry," Hermione said and calmed down a bit. "Besides your toad of a brother, you're perfect."

"Well, can you stop calling him that?" Harry asked. "He calls me 'Potter' and it's just bloody confusing. As if I don't have enough problems in my life, I just want to know when you're mad at me."

"Stop stealing my cat!" she yelled, causing Ron to crawl off of Harry's cot and onto his own where he stretched for the first time in a few hours and said, "Didn't steal any stupid cat."

"Not you, Ronald," Hermione walked over and stood over Draco. She asked, "What did you do to him?"

Draco leaned up slightly and Crookshanks turned himself around slightly for the new position. Staring up at her, he retorted, "I've been here all night, Granger. Harry and Weasel can both vouch for me—"

"No, I won't," Ron responded, bolting upwards and wide awake.

Harry sat on his trunk and asked, "Why not, we were all here talking to each other last night."

"It's the principle of the thing, Harry, I mean, _me_ defending _him_?" Ron argued then rolled over assuming this had won the conversation.

Hermione picked up her cat and petted Crookshanks, who purred loudly, "See, he loves me because I've always treated him sweetly. He barely even likes Harry and Ron, but only because they just made up their Divination homework, which you can't really hold against them, so why did he decide you were his new favorite? Trust me, back at school with the people who know you, you're still the villain to Harry's hero and that won't change. So stop hanging around with my cat and… and doing whatever vile things you do with him."

Sitting up, Draco smiled and answered, "Well, I call him a 'smashed-faced monster,' and often discuss the ways I can't stand you or Weasley and generally taunt everything and everyone you value, you bushy-haired little bookworm. But I also give him lots of milk so we know where his loyalties lie; don't we."

Ron reacted first, burying his head deeper in his pillow. Harry cautiously turned his back on the rapidly escalating fight. After the night he just had, there wasn't strength to stand between another Draco and Hermione row.

"I don't know how you convinced anyone you're any better than before. You admit all the vile things you've ever done and clean up your mouth a little and you aren't the same foul little git that you've always been you sad, pathetic little boy."

As Hermione turned and started to walk out, Draco called after her, "I didn't do anything to you, lately. You're just determined to hate me for who I was."

Just inside the doorway, Draco caught up to her and matched her pace. He had really been trying not to accept them. For HER of all people to come after him for no reason tore at him. So, he proceeded to do a very stupid thing. Draco, as was his old habit in these situations of being cornered and hurt, went for blood. Then he walked closer and whispered in her ear, "And I haven't cleaned my mouth out that much you cheap slag."

As Hermione's eyes watered and she left, Draco went outside and followed her, leaving a sleeping Ron and a drowsy Harry behind. Draco realized what enormous steps in the old direction, the wrong direction, he was taking. Here he was acting like Lucius and Narcissa's son again. No matter what Granger said, she didn't deserve that, he thought. His parents deserved better.

Outside, he caught up with her and asked in a too-violent whisper, "What is your problem, Granger? Even Weasel is being nicer than you and that's a first."

Hermione stopped a few steps ahead of Draco and continued to look ahead as if she was actually considering the answer before retorting, "Harry is a better person than me."

Draco smiled and added, "Well, that might be true, but it doesn't exactly put you in an exclusive club, Granger. We all tend to fall short there."

"Damn you," Hermione turned and Draco saw the tears in her eyes. He silently wished he could take back his earlier comment, but she continued, "Harry is better than me because you've done worse things to him than anyone else. You maliciously tortured him for half-a-dozen years and in the course of a month; he forgives and starts to love you as much as he does any of us. And you start to love him back and treat him far better than ever before. How does someone do that? I don't forgive you. I won't because after six years you still can leave me in tears with one heartless phrase. Why can almost no one but you do that to me! _I hate you_. I learned to hate you _so_ much. I can't change that without even an—"

"I'm sorry," he interrupted. They both stood in place as Hermione dried her eyes. He waited for her and continued, "I apologize for every single time I called you… that word. For every comment about your buck-teeth, which aren't even there anymore, or your bushy hair, which is actually quite nice—"

"Stop lying."

"I'm not. Your hair is… special. I even… and I will murder you if you ever mention this… always though Harry was an excellent flyer and Ron was… a… a… well I haven't grown up _that much_. But knowing full well you won't accept it, I offer it. Because… well I made a list of people I wouldn't apologize to under any circumstances short of death and… well you were never on it."

As Harry walked up towards them, Hermione turned and wiped the last of the tears from her eyes and went into the kitchen. Harry stopped beside Draco and asked, "Is everything all right?"

"Obviously not if I'm still here among enemies, Potter," he responded. "But some things we work our way through."

"I'm serious though. You can't keep calling me 'Potter' if she's going to call you by the same name. It's too damn confusing."

"Does that count as permission to go back to Scarhead?"

With that Harry punched him in the shoulder and went in for breakfast. Draco stood there a moment before a very familiar cat came up to him after hopping out the living room window. He looked down and it and said, "You won't stop until I surrender and come in for breakfast will you?"

Crookshanks looked up at him and if Draco knew that the animal was part Kneazle, he might have picked up on the small nod it offered back to him. Instead he walked back to the shed and closed the door. A few seconds later, Ron came out still wrapped in his bed sheet muttering curses under his breath mixed with words like "git" and "Ferret," then picked up the cat and went in for breakfast.

The first members of the Order arrived just after ten on Friday night after most of the house had retired in preparation for the big day tomorrow. Arm-in-arm, the former-professor Remus Lupin and Nymphadora Tonks _popped_ into being just outside the back door. Harry was the one who opened the door for them and noticing their joined arms, smiled and moved in to a quick hug with Remus. For a moment he didn't see the weathered-down professor with his tattered robes. He saw the memories. He saw the young boy with friends and his whole life ahead of him. Tonks smiled and wrapped her arms around them, "Wotcher, Harry."

Harry broke apart from them and a moment later Tonks found herself wiping tears from the young man's eyes. Remus grabbed his shoulder and asked, "Whatever's the matter, Harry?"

"It's just… it's been a long, long summer, Remus," Harry answered in a defeated tone. "I've missed you both. How have you been?"

Harry led them into the kitchen. Most of the guests had either left for town or the Lovegood house for the night. Sitting at the kitchen table, Remus and Tonks looked on while Harry poured them all a cup of hot tea. Remus was blushing and Tonks started explaining, "Well, I've actually convinced the genius here to go out on the town a few times. It's hard balancing duties with the Order—"

"And my monthly predicament," Remus added with a sad smile.

Tonks slapped him on the arm and added, "Well, I can be a regular wolf every now and then myself so that's no excuse. Besides, I love my little 'Werewolf of London.' But anyway Harry, we only got out into muggle London a couple of nights. Awfully sorry we didn't visit."

"Oh, I've kept busy."

"That seems to be the great mystery," Remus said and seeing Harry's confused expression added, "Well Hagrid, Diggle and Shaklebolt have been the only ones Dumbledore's had watching you all summer. Seems something Dumbledore didn't want interrupted was going on."

"Yeah, so spill, Harry," Tonks said with a smile.

"Well…" Harry was interrupted when Hermione walked into the kitchen and saw them.

"Professor! Tonks!" Hermione ran over and hugged Tonks as they exchanged some quick greetings before she turned to Harry and said, "Would you tell Potter to bring my cat in for the night, so it can escape in an hour and go snuggle with the git?"

Remus and Tonks exchanged a look, thinking she might have been talking to them and after Hermione went over to a cupboard and grabbed a bowl, whispered, "Is she mad at you, Harry?"

"Tonks, Rem—er… Professor, can I ask… what do you think of Draco Malfoy?" Harry summoned some courage; well, enough to look them in the eyes when he asked this.

"Well," Tonks began a bit slower than usual, "all I ever heard about him was that he was no better than my Aunt Narcissa or that vile husband of hers. His parents would never stand for us meeting while he was growing up. He changed to our side, I suppose, that last night at Hogwarts and wasn't with his mother or Be—Le… his aunt when we fought them the next day. Have you seen him, Harry?"

Harry nodded and looked to Lupin. Hermione sat across from Harry at the kitchen table and listened in quietly. Overcoming her own discomfort on the matter, she reached over and grasped Harry's hand in support. The older man saw a bit of doubt and maybe even some… was it hope for a different answer in Harry's eyes?

He coughed and explained, "Well, it has been a few years since I saw him when I taught at Hogwarts. He was well… not as smart as Hermione, but still quite intelligent. I always… well I don't think he liked me from the start because I got along so well with you. I don't suppose it would have gotten any better after he learned I was a werewolf. I had heard that he tended to look down on what were considered by some to be… lower breeds."

Hermione shook her head when she saw her dear friend swallow a lump and ask, "But he… did you like him at all?"

"Well, he was for the most part an attentive student. Grasped the material easily enough. He had as much trouble with his boggart as you both did. The strange thing is I don't think even he could account for why he was so terrified. It was—"

"Darkness.

All heads turned towards the doorway, where Draco had entered holding the white photo album under his left arm and Crookshanks held to his chest with his right. Remus and Tonks were both silent as the needed a moment to recognize who it was. Draco set the cat on top of the table and explained, "I supposed you'd be looking for him. _Bovis_."

The small bowl in front of Hermione filled with milk and she exclaimed, "That's it! You've just been conjuring him fresh milk? I never thought you were so easy to please, Crookshanks."

Draco set down next to Harry on the side farther away from the new visitors and continued his story. "The room was completely dark. I couldn't stop myself from screaming at the top of my lungs. Crying, harder than I had in years… Maybe it was just me, but the room started to shake with explosions. I have no idea where my fear came from; it was as unexplainable as it was utterly terrifying – like something tearing my soul apart. I felt a… let's just say that I was terrified. And then there was a flash of white light and Moony… I mean Professor Lupin came in. It was a week ago today I finally figured out what it really was."

"Harry?" Remus said. Harry instead of saying anything picked up the book and turned to the page after the first one he had ever seen. In the upper left-hand corner was a picture of Remus holding Harry and Sirius holding Draco. Lily's caption read, 'Oh, no! Not More Mauraders!'

Harry passed the book over towards Remus and Tonks, whose eyes quickly flashed white. Remus' face paled as he looked from the two boys to the book. Tonks put her arm around him and leaned into his shoulder.

Thinking they needed a moment, Hermione asked, "So what was the boggart?"

"It was the night Voldemort came for me… well both of us actually," Harry explained. "Draco could have been the Chosen One except I was sleepy and he wanted to stand up and impress Mum. Dad hid him in the broom closet to save him."

"I think the muggles call that cosmic irony," Draco deadpanned.

"So…" Tonks began, "I guess we aren't cousins."

"See, Potter, some people will take it all right. She didn't get off all that bad," Draco said, as his brother put a hand on his shoulder.

"It's just… you… I can't believe," Remus seemed lost for words. After a few moments silent at the table except for Crookshanks finishing licking up his milk, he stared at Draco and said, "You know you look a good deal like her with… You have James' eyes."

Draco nodded solemnly. Before anyone else could say anything, Ron entered the room and saw one of his favorite teachers, "Remus! Great to see you! Oi, Tonks, what's the matter? Never seen you so…"

Ron trailed off when he saw the book in front of them. Grimacing he walked around the table and sat next to Hermione and spoke up, "Well, Fred and George transfigured Percy's bed into a bunk for you to sleep in tonight, just don't let Mum find out. So… Remus, you taught Defense, what do you reckon of this famous hero-making spell?"

"Ron… I thought you said—" Harry started, but was interrupted by the taller red-head.

"No, Harry one glance and hated enemies become brothers, valuable allies and best friends in a blink of an eye."

"I think its time to pack in Harry, big day tomorrow," Draco stood up and walked past Lupin and towards the front door.

He stopped abruptly when he heard Ron throw in, "Yeah, big day. I just hope they take the pictures of Bill from his good side."

Harry's face turned an awful shade of purple and he noticed Draco's hand flick towards his wand like in the old days, but he held himself back.

"That's enough, Ron," Hermione said as she picked up Crookshanks. Walking out of the room, she said, "Goodnight, Remus, Tonks, Harry, Ronald. 'Night Potter, take care of Crookshanks. I'm sure he'll escape out there within the hour."

Draco nodded curtly and said, "Feel free to tell them everything Weasel. I know I've heard it enough. I'm going to try to fall asleep before you come out."

Harry resolved to swallow his anger at Ron. He tried balancing it by remembering every horrible thing Draco had ever said about Ron and his family, including Ginny. He sat there for nearly an hour recounting the by now familiar tale of Draco's sins and his recent attempt at redemption, including helping Harry learn and master Occlumency enough to stop his dreams. Ron was quiet for the most part, listening to the same story he had already heard. He didn't make any more comments and Harry hoped after the wedding tomorrow, Ron would be able to move toward accepting Draco as an ally.

Remus took it all silently listening. He was smiling a bit at the end, particularly the part where they worked together to stop Voldemort from invading his mind. When the four last people awake in the house (except for Bill, who nervously sat up in bed counting down the minutes until the ceremony), went to bed, Harry was thankful that Draco at least appeared to be asleep. Harry fell face down into his normal spot in the middle cot and Ron was soon snoring lightly off to his left.

Soon Harry found sleep as well and unlike the previous night it was blissfully devoid of attempts to invade his mind.

The enchanted wind-up alarm clocked blared at six in the morning, Ron jolted up and quickly threw on some shoes before running out the front door and across to the field. Harry reached up and shut off the alarm clock before sitting up and putting on his glasses. He looked over at Draco as he reached backwards and pulled a pair of fresh socks from his trunk. His brother hadn't moved, but Harry had spent enough time near him to know he was awake.

"You know you're such a bad liar," he said to no response. He then added, "Yes, as bad a liar as you are a light sleeper. Breakfast will be ready by eight. Want to help up set up the chairs for the ceremony?"

Without moving, Draco drawled, "_Want_ isn't the phrase I'd use, Harry."

"Well how about, 'will help us in another desperate attempt to repay the wrongs you've done to the Weasleys and get along with Ron for the sake of your dear brother's sanity?' How's that sound?"

Harry threw his leg over the bed and started tying his shoelaces. He took Draco starting to do the same as confirmation of what he had said.

By the time they marched over towards the field, Ron had already magically set down the first row of chairs on the groom's side and was now going from one to the next and adjusting them by hand into the perfect position. Harry walked onto the field and noted what a warm day it was already. He figured it would be stifling by mid-day.

"Think he's excited about being in the wedding?" Harry asked. Draco nodded and waved his wand pulling out the first row of chairs on the bride's side. He moved a couple slightly, but was far less specific about it than Ron.

In about a half-hour, Harry was looking over the final row of chairs as Ron kept fidgeting with a couple. Draco was walking around the reception area a couple hundred meters down the field and hardening some spots on the ground that the twins had missed the other day. Without warning, Harry saw a large table and chairs for a dozen slam down just in front of Draco. He staggered back a step and was almost hit with another set. Looking up, they saw Fred and George flying on their brooms with a dozen such tables floating around them.

They were howling with laughter at Draco's expression when Ron called, "Oi, stop fooling around with the tables and start in on the showers. No messing up today."

"Wow, I didn't know Percy showed up," Fred commented as he lowered several tables more gently to the ground while Draco marched back towards Ron and Harry. George set the remainder of the tables down as well a small rectangular one for presents close to the road. The two of them then flew back to the Burrow and straight in their bedroom window from which the boys soon heard a scream that sounded like Tonks, but they were willing to bet came out of Remus' mouth and the echoes of laughter.

"Those two are going to be right impossible today," Ron commented. "We should probably keep their present a good distance from the others."

Harry nodded and took a final look over the set-up, adding, "We might want to go get ready ourselves."

The three of them took turns in the rickety attached shower installed on the back of the shed. Harry went second so Ron would be too busy dressing to have to talk with Draco. However, when he was done and reached outside for his towel, he found it wasn't there. His entire body flushed red and he cautiously stuck out his head to see Ginny sitting on the ground in her pink nightgown several meters away rolling around and scarcely able to breath for all the laughing she was doing. Fortunately, Harry had not left his wand out of reach and summoned the towel back to him. Ginny slowed her laughter as Harry started towards the shed door and called, "Just wait until it's your turn!"

Inside, Ron was sitting on his bed already fully dressed and tapping his feet on the ground. Draco stood his towel and an extra change of clothes. He explained to Harry, "You don't think I'm going in the shower naked with those two still around do you? I'll keep one set on the ground next to me, so I at least have _something_ they can't float away."

Harry tried to hide his own embarrassment as Ron muttered, "Hate to admit it, but he's pretty smart about it. Lucky for me, I must have got done before them. That's the last thing I need today."

"Honestly, Ron, I think it's the bride and groom who are expected to be nervous," Harry said as he began buttoning his short-sleeved dress shirt and trousers. As he fastened his tie, he silently hoped they wouldn't have to keep their robes on during the reception. Ron was already sweating from nerves and the heat.

He responded, "Well, being a groomsman's very important. Charlie and I have to make sure everything goes perfect for them and after the first dance, I have to dance with Ginny. They decided I was too tall for Gabrielle to dance with."

Harry had to nod his silent agreement at that. Gabrielle was still only eleven and very much a child. Ron was now the tallest of all the Weasleys except for Bill and Romanus. Charlie had a good short Quidditch frame. Though he was just about two inches shorter than Harry and Draco, it qualified him as the runt of the Weasley boys.

As Draco returned wearing wet clothes and no towel, to which Ron laughed and said, "Good call, I guess."

Draco nodded and all three finished dressing except for their robes, which Ron had taken off and they carried at their sides. They walked over and entered the Burrow through the kitchen door. In all the time Harry had spent with the Weasleys, he had seen things hectic, but the sheer number of people he now saw crammed in the little house was completely unheard of.

Mrs. Weasley and Ginny were in the kitchen finishing breakfast for whoever had time to grab something on their way past the room. Both were already wearing their dresses under heavy aprons. Ginny's valentine red full-length bridesmaid dress nicely matched her hair and hung by two straps near her neck. Molly wore a deep purple dress that matched Mr. Weasley's tie. Arthur and Charlie were running back and forth looking for the younger man's tie and cufflinks. Mr. Delacour was in the living room zipping up the back of his wife's dress. Bill's friends Paul and Ishmael were levitating the food for the reception out the front window, where Fred and George took over and set it down. They were sprinkling it with Everlasting Flavor Savors to keep it fresh for the next couple of hours. Tonks was standing in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room, fastening Remus' bowtie for him.

"Morning, boys," Mrs. Weasley said. "You look just lovely."

Despite her comment, she frowned slightly at their hairstyles. Of course Harry's was an unkempt and scraggy as ever, so she could grimace, but not really hold it against him. Ron's hair was at least combed neatly, though now nearly long enough to fall on his shoulders. If Harry said anything about Draco's auburn hair that hung in long bangs and was constantly falling across his eyes, he knew it was a vast improvement over the slicked-back white-blonde hair from his time with the Malfoys. He had to admit that despite the dress clothes, they did appear to be a rather ragged-looking group of young men. As a burning hot skillet of sausage flew past Harry's head, he ducked down and quickly led the other two boys into the living room until breakfast was ready. As the Delacours began jabbering back and forth in French, Harry instead led them towards the stairs, "Let's go find Hermione, then we can check on Bill."

While Ron eagerly followed Harry up the stairs, Draco loosened his tie and waited a bit at the bottom of the steps before heading up. Harry and Ron apparently found Hermione sticking just her head outside of Fleur's room. In a blur she ducked into the room and slammed the door shut, but not before Crookshanks snuck out and started rubbing against their legs. Draco came up to them and heard Ron ask, "What's she mean by 'It's bad luck to see Fleur?'"

"Its an old muggle tradition not to see the bride in the gown before the ceremony," Harry explained. "Hermione looked nice though."

"Hmm… yeah, she did," Ron replied. "I suppose. But how about Ginny? I mean not that you could tell under the apron and all."

Harry hung his head and answered, "Yeah, but I've been thinking about…"

"What?" Ron asked as Harry sat down on the steps to the fourth floor. "You aren't going—"

Harry nodded and wiped away a tear, explaining, "I just… she came seconds away from being a target for Voldemort. I can't let her be in danger. And being close to me has already revealed Draco's secret to him. I can't imagine him hunting— I won't say anything until after the reception though. I want her to have a great day. She's so happy for Bill."

Ron sat and looked at Harry, his expression morphed from unbridled rage to quiet sympathy over the course of a few instants. He sat down next to Harry and threw him arm over his shoulder, pulling him close. Draco sat down on the floor and leaned against a bedroom door. Pushing his hair out of his face, Draco said, "She'll think you a sodding fool for doing this."

"He's right," Ron said, his eyes widening at the fact that he just agreed with Draco. "She wouldn't let you go to the Ministry alone in fifth year. She wants to be in this fight with you regardless of being dating you. Just like Hermione and me."

"—and me," Draco finished. Ron opened his mouth to say something, but at that moment Bill came down the steps in a hurry and nearly tripped over his brother.

"Watch it, Ron," he said. His hands were stuffed deeply in the pockets of his black dress robes and he was sweating profusely. Ron was unable to stifle a giggle at the sight of him and received a sharp punch in the ribs. Rubbing it, Ron apologized.

"No, it's my fault," Bill replied. "I'm just—well…"

"Wow," Ron said with a smile, "I don't think the great curse-breaker Bill Weasley's ever been nervous before."

As Harry broke into a smile, he noticed the door Hermione had gone into a moment ago open. As Bill started to turn towards it, Harry remembered what Hermione said and jumped up and found his hand land on top of Draco's as they covered the groom's face.

"Oh my," Gabrielle said. "Iz you alright, Beell?"

When the door closed behind her, Harry and Draco removed their hands and Bill answered, "Yeah, I think so. What was that for?"

Harry grinned and said, "Hermione reminded us it's bad luck for any men, especially you, to see Fleur in her dress until the wedding."

"It's some silly Muggle tradition," Draco added, quickly stepping back.

"It's not silly!" Hermione yelled from the other side of the door. "Now all of you go downstairs. Girls only on this floor."

With a smile for Harry, Gabrielle waved them off. Bill grabbed her by the back of the head and kissed her forehead and she attempted to squirm away, giggling. He led the way downstairs and slipped around his friends, brother, soon to be in-laws and father to find his way to the kitchen table.

When the four boys sat down, Molly was just setting down enough food to feed an entire House table at Hogwarts. Coincidentally, several loud _pops_ and _cracks_ were heard outside the kitchen door and a knock came to the door. Harry went to open it and found Professor Dumbledore standing there in very fine blue robes that matched his eyes. He stepped forward with his cane hand and the largest smile he had ever offered. He was flanked and followed by members of the Hogwarts staff and a few Order members: Hagrid, Madam Olympe Maxine, Kingsley Shaklebolt, Dedalus Diggle, Elphias Soge, Hestia Jones, Alastor Moody and Professors McGonagall, Slughorn, Flitwick and Sprout.

"Greetings Harry, how is our fine groom?" Dumbledore asked. Harry glanced back at Bill before responding,

"Well, he wants you all to think he's as cool as ever, but he's actually—" Bill grabbed Harry's shoulder and interrupted, "Just fine, sir. Good to see you again."

Dumbledore nodded and gently grasped Bill's hand, saying, "You do look a bit flush son, perhaps we should head over for the ceremony. I do believe the Burrow is fit to burst."

"Oh, do have something to eat first, Professor," Molly protested. She walked over to Dumbledore and kissed his cheek.

"You do look simply radiant, Molly. Congratulations," Dumbledore said. "But we should head over or I fear Mr. Weasley here will never get himself a wife. Harry, would you and Draco perhaps bring out some food for our companions. I believe those grapefruits and some fruit pudding would be grand."

Dumbledore leaned on Bill and led his congregation, Harry, Draco and Ron over to the chairs for the wedding chairs. Fred and George stood at the bottom of the aisle, waiting to serve as ushers. Behind them, Harry heard Madam Maxine ask, "Dear 'Agrid, voud you set with me for Fleur?"

Hagrid twisting a handkerchief in his hands, hesitantly stated, "Well, I'm sure Bill wouldn't mind none."

Bowing lowly to them, Fred escorted them to the second row on the left. Maxine removed her wand from her long silk robes and enlarged two chairs so they would hold the half-giants and they sat gently while Draco offered them something off of a platter floating ahead of his wand. Meanwhile, George led most of the congregation over to the groom's side and began seating them in the third row.

When Bill sat down to speak with the headmaster, George announced, "Bill, I think you're supposed to be up front. But no worries, either Fred or I will step up if you can't hack it."

He then ducked under a jinx that Bill sent flying his way and ran beside his twin back to the bottom of the aisle. While Bill and Dumbledore talked quietly with McGonagall, Harry found himself floating several trays back and forth among the guests. Ron abandoned him after a few minutes when the Lovegoods arrived with several dozen of Fleur's relations.

Luna as always had a distant look in her eyes, but they focused in on Ron as he came up and started talking to her. Her dirty blonde hair was flowing in a wind that had just started to kick up and she wore a kiwi dress and had apparently forgotten her robes. Looking up at the sun and wiping his forehead, Harry wished he had done the same.

A half hour later, Bill rose and took his place at the front, quickly joined by Charlie and then Ron on his left hand side as he tapped his foot and attempted to stare a hole in the front door. Most of the guests had by now taken their seats. Harry and Draco finished speaking with the tall French wizard that the Delacours had hired to photograph the day and walked towards the back. Dumbledore motioned for them to come and sit with him. Draco scooted past the headmaster and took a seat between him and Alastor Moody. Harry took the seat on the older man's other side.

Dumbledore spoke quietly so only they could hear him.

"Gentlemen, I hope you don't mind, but I took the liberty of informing the remainder of the Order and Hogwarts staff of your particular situation," he explained. "I assumed you have had to explain yourselves quite enough."

The two nodded and Harry turned to see Molly leading the remainder of the Weasley clan, except for Ginny, into the two rows ahead of him. Before taking their seats, Arthur shook his son's hand and dabbed at his eyes. Molly, already weeping, embraced Bill tightly and kissed him on either cheek. Charlie quickly removed his wand and cleaned off the lipstick smears. After a moment, Arthur pulled his wife back to her seat a few feet away. Andius Margrove was the wizard performing the ceremony. He stood up in the center next to Bill. Harry thought it an amusing sight to see Bill standing tall next to the short and stout wizard who appeared to be several decades older than any other person Harry had ever met. Soon, Harry noticed Diggle conjure a violin and walk over to join a group of four musicians off to the side.

Most of the crowd turned around when Hermione came jogging up. She wasn't wearing any robes and instead a simple tea-length strawberry dress with a small ribboned sash at the waist. Her light brown hair was done up with a few beautiful curls and Harry admitted she seemed even more a vision than she had the night of the Yule Ball, having truly come into her own. After whispering to Margrove, she came back and took a seat next to Harry.

She leaned over and said hello to Dumbledore before turning back towards the Burrow. Harry thought for a moment that he saw her catch Draco's eyes and look away quickly, but dismissed the idea right away.

Ginny and Gabrielle walked slowly to the foot of the aisle. Similar to Ginny, Gabrielle was wearing a matching dress of honey that complimented her own blonde hair. Harry did not notice Fleur's sister for several moments though. He had eyes only for Ginny, who was smiling brightly, her hair flowing down onto her shoulders with little curls at the ends. She smiled at Bill, and then looked quickly around before her eyes caught Harry's. The two smiled contently at each other until the band started up and Gabrielle nudged Ginny in the arm. Side by side they started up the aisle and each kissed Bill on the cheek before moving off to the opposite side.

The band silenced for a moment while the guests all stood and in a flash of yellow light, Fleur appeared next to her father and the foot of the aisle. She had her hair flowing freely though it seemed enchanted to only sway slightly to and fro in the breeze. On her head was the beautiful tiara that Mrs. Weasley had offered her less than two months ago. Her strapless white gown fell around her tightly and trailed nearly half a meter behind her. As she began forward, Harry glanced back and forth to see virtually every man present enamored with her beauty. Even Moody was uncharacteristically smiling. Next to him, however, Draco wore a tight grin and Dumbledore wore his usual adoring smile.

When she reached the front of the aisle, Bill took her hand and Harry could just barely hear him say, "You really are beautiful enough for both of us."

Fleur stroked his scars around his left eye and answered back, "Vell I am very smart too. And lucky."

Hermione realized she was smiling as Margrove began the ceremony and Bill and Fleur stood facing each other with hands intertwined. They just seemed so well fit with each other. She had never really seen it before, _but perhaps these things aren't seen until they are ready to be shown_.

The ceremony seemed very similar to a muggle ceremony, speaking of undying love and devotion and faith. Not faith in any specific religion, but in each other, in their families and in love. Bill no longer seemed nervous now that he was next to Fleur. On the contrary, it was Ron who looked positively terrified, probably worried about something embarrassing happening and ruining the proceedings. The words of the ceremony were somewhat obscured by Mrs. Weasley and Hagrid, both of whom seemed to be holding a contest to see who could cry the most before completely drying up. When he heard Hermione sniffling next to him, Harry leaned over and she whispered, "They just look so happy."

Both Harry and Dumbledore smiled at this and soon after Margrove announced, "My fine witches and wizards! It is my privilege to present Mr. and Mrs. Bill and Fleur Weasley!"

The two kissed deeply and Bill lifted his wife off of the ground as her arms wrapped tightly around his neck. The more than a hundred guests all rose and offered up a thunderous applause as the new Weasley couple raced down the aisle and back into the Burrow. Shortly thereafter, the musicians apparated over to the reception area and began playing a lively jig as the guests began walking over. Harry looked down and noticed Dumbledore had taken his hand and leaned on him slightly while walking across the field. Looking back briefly, he saw Ginny, Luna and Hermione talking amongst themselves and of all people Mrs. Weasley somehow ended up with her husband patting her back while Draco helped her walk along to the family table.

And then the party began.

_A/N: Well, got this out sooner than I expected. So, here it is another Chapter. A bit more than a few notes from me, once again I do not own Harry Potter. The bit of dialogue where Harry and Draco are discussing how many languages he can speak is paraphrased from the genius work of Aaron Sorkin on his insanely excellent series _Sports Night_. This isn't quite as long as the last couple chapters, mostly because I didn't want to go into too much detail on the actual ceremony itself, not wanting to offend any readers beliefs on how it should go. I might have a different idea where as some would blatantly copy a Christian ceremony of some type and others would have a wiccan or some type of a pagan or a jewish or Hindu or whatever they feel should be displayed. I just wanted to outline it briefly and leave you to fill in the blanks. I was always facinated on whether or not muggleborns adopted some type of faith the wizards have that Rowling just never discussed in the books, or if they kept their own. I mean is Seamus a Catholic? Does Hermione still go to CoE services over the summer? Regardless, I wanted to take a moment to thank the TEN reviews I've gotten so far. Although I really, REALLY want more, so next chapter I will start responding to specific individuals in my author notes. Your encouragement has me pushing out chapters far faster than I planned on. So once again I will prostitute myself. Reviews are my food, please feed me so that I might grow tall and strong and produce new chapters faster. Feel free to nitpick my sometimes atrocious grammar and spelling (even after reading and reviewing them a half-dozen times before posting). Or use this incredible forum to tell me what a pain in the arse I am, or even open a discussion with me on any particular storypoint or idea you question or want to discuss. Thanks for the support. Also, the idea of Harry and Draco being brothers was explored by at least one writer before me, look up the story Blood is Thicker Than Tears by atruwriter, its a great read. It even has everyone's favorite pairing, Hermione-Draco, but I hope we can all agree a vastly different writing style and plot than I am attempting here. But still a great idea. Thank you all once again for reading!_


	8. Plans for the Future

**CHAPTER SEVEN: Plans for the Future**

For the first hour of the reception, Bill and Fleur walked among their guest and talked with them about the ceremony, though they remained completely silent in regards to their plans for after they returned from their honeymoon in France. During this time the Gringotts employees had let it slip that Bill was leaving under most mysterious circumstances. When the couple reached the table Harry shared with most of the Hogwarts staff, his brother, Hermione and Luna and her father; both Potter men and Dumbledore proved themselves relatively unaffected by Fleur's Veela-inherited charms. Hermione seemed infinitely amused by this and even let out a small giggle at Fleur's somewhat discouraged face as they left for the nearby table where their families sat.

As the band kicked up, the preserved food that Mrs. Weasley had spent the better part of three weeks preparing was levitated into position and the savoring charms were removed for them to be eaten. Harry noticed Dumbledore move his good hand quickly over the table and Harry, Draco, Hermione and Luna's pumpkin juice found itself transformed into butterbeer. Harry drank it greedily, but still looked enviously at Ron who was having a cup of firewhiskey and glass of wine like the rest of the family table, except for Gabrielle. No one had finished three mouthfuls before Fred and George began offering cheers and demanding the newlyweds to kiss. Tentatively at first they did to the tremendous applause of all those present. Harry began talking to Luna about the ceremony. He found her opinion quite interesting.

"Well, it was mostly lovely, even if the minister wasn't very engaging," she said, using her fork to play with her food. "I mean he didn't once mention Ginny and her lovely dress and Ron looked nice too, though I prefer him without the tie. It doesn't suit him at all."

"I suppose so," Harry replied.

He glanced over at the family table and sure enough most of the boys, Bill and Ron included, had removed their ties and undone a few buttons on their shirts as the sun reached its zenith in the sky. Harry smiled and noticed on his other side, Hermione was trying very hard not to be caught looking over at Draco and McGonagall who were discussing the upcoming year's transfiguration class. Harry was quite certain that Hermione's dedication and Draco's depression that they would each have finished half a year's worth of studying before the Opening Feast. He also noticed Hermione's shocked expression when Dumbledore called Draco, "the most curious Head Boy since Bill Weasley."

Silently Harry hoped he remembered to reprimand his brother for the condescending smirk he sent her. Looking towards Harry, Hermione said, "Mrs. Weasley certainly has outdone herself with the feast."

"Most definitely," Dumbledore agreed. "I doubt the house elves of Hogwarts could match these dumplings."

Hermione made a point to stuff her mouth full and look down at the mention of house-elves and Harry fought down the urge to laugh aloud when he remembered her efforts with SPEW. She did prove how well she knew Harry, when he soon after felt a sharp jab to his shin. The happy meal was eventually interrupted when Fred and George stood up on the family table and yelled, "Oi!"

Fred began, "Well, now that big brother Bill has gone at got himself married and is starting to get right knackered, we feel it's high time for a toast. Now, raise your glasses to the happy couple."

As Mrs. Weasley blushed furiously and the guests raised their glasses (those who knew the twins did it more tentatively than the rest), George continued, "To Bill, that he may do the family proud and shag out at least seven red-headed devils of children."

Amid laughter, Fred added, "And our prayers for Fleur's delicacy that they not."

A few faces from Fleur's side of the family were both shocked and appalled at the comments of the twins. The boys, however, smiled and looked towards their mother. Her face had quickly descended through pink, red and purple and was now a dark shade of blue. The entire crowd grew silent and many sets of eyes followed the twins' to Molly.

"Oh, you filthy boys," Mrs. Weasley got out with a stern face before she nearly doubled over in her chair. Harry thought he heard her sobbing, but when he head came back up it was obvious. She was laughing uncontrollably. Fred and George jumped off of the table and took turns hugging her while she playfully slapped at them. They then hugged her at the same time, squishing her none-too-gently between them.

A few minutes later a shaking Ron stood up. By the time every set of eyes had turned to him, Ron appeared to be vibrating like a bludger anxious to break free. He eventually barely got out, "Congratulations, Bill, Fleur. Cheers and all the best."

He was appeased by the kind applause that followed as he quickly sat down. Harry and most others cheered madly as Bill kissed his wife again, even deeper than before. Bill's school friend Ishmael soon stood and called out, "Now, I'm sure we all remember Bill as the shortest kid in first year and a bit of a snot-nosed brat always missing his Mum awful fierce. He remains the luckiest bugger I ever met. Best of luck in the future, Billy Boy."

Soon after one of Fleur's uncles, a man who seemed to have far too much firewhiskey rose and began speaking in French very quickly. When he finished most of the bride's guests were looking down at their plates embarrassed while the English guests clapped politely.

The next toast was from the gray-haired wizard only two seats down from Harry. Dumbledore steadied himself on his cane and spoke softly, but it somehow carried to every seat present.

"I have known Bill Weasley these last sixteen years," Dumbledore began, "and one truth about him is how much pride we have always had to know such a remarkable lad. He has done his parents proud. His classmates and Head of House and headmaster have all been proud of him. He earned the respect of his co-workers and those who have fought by his side through many hardships. His fearlessness is only matched by his kindness. I wish you both many happy years in love. Now, as for his great secret of why he recently quit his job. With his permission, I would like to let you all in on one more reason to find pride in Mr. Bill Weasley."

Molly and Arthur, along with most of the Weasleys appeared shocked and frozen. Harry realized that it was only by chance that he and Draco knew of Bill leaving Gringotts. Apparently the mad rumors of them tendering notice at the bank had not reached the family table yet. Bill nodded and held Fleur close as he raised his glass towards the headmaster. Now with consent to continue, Dumbledore added, "On behave of Professor McGonagall and all the staff and students of Hogwarts, I welcome Mr. Weasley as our new Professor for Defense Against the Dark Arts in the upcoming school year."

Dumbledore led the staff in a polite applause, while Harry, Ron, Hermione, Fred and George were all standing and cheering madly. Luna stood up shortly after and clapped madly along with them. Even Draco rose slowly and joined in the standing ovation from the students present.

"And to think we were stuck with Umbridge!" Fred yelled.

"Aye," George added. "It've been far grander to torture Bill. Bloody pity."

Harry had never looked forward to a class so much. Remus had been a pleasant surprise and Moody had actually been a Death Eater in disguise. But now he finally had a teacher Harry actually looked forward to learning from before the first class was even called into session. Just like that the seventh year looked far brighter. Professor Dumbledore was correct about everyone being proud of him. Fleur kissed and stared adoringly at him and Molly and Arthur were both smiling and wiping tears of joy from the corners of their eyes. When the applause finally died down, Bill stood and took his wife by the hand. At the signal, Fred and George cast an alteration of their portable swamp and suddenly a grand dance floor appeared right next to the river.

The musicians started up again and the couple took their first dance together. Other couples soon began gathering around the dance floor watching them slide along. Ginny was pulling Harry up by the arm and they were soon standing next to Arthur and Molly watching along as Bill knowingly bent Fleur backwards and then pulled her back to him. Ginny kissed Harry on the cheek as the first dance ended and she walked onto the floor with Ron. Gabrielle was blushing furiously as Charlie escorted her out followed closely by the Delacours and Arthur and Molly.

Watching Ginny dancing along with a beautiful smile on her face, Harry again questioned if his plan was the right thing to do. He was torn between this desire to be near her that tore him from the inside out and his need to keep her safe. As if reading his mind, Draco walked up next to him and watched the dancers.

"Don't think about it today," Draco said. "She won't enjoy the day nearly as much if you spend it off brooding about things."

"Do I need to brush up on my Occlumency?" Harry asked with a smirk. He quickly realized he had adopted that expression from his brother over the previous few weeks.

As the latest song ended, Draco turned to face him and answered, "No, you're just that bloody obvious Potter. Now go ask the Weasel if you can cut in. And for my sake don't have that stupid grin on your face the whole time."

Harry marched out on the floor smiling widely. Now that the official dances had concluded, more than a dozen couples made their way out and began dancing. Just as Ginny was turning away from Ron, Harry came up behind her and grabbed her around the shoulders.

"May I have the honor, Miss Weasley?"

Turning around, she nodded and they began dancing around. The band was playing a light waltz and Harry quickly remembered what a poor dancer he was when he stepped on Ginny's feet three times in the first minute. She then took over and they stopped moving. Leaning her head on Harry's shoulder, they began simply gently swaying back and forth in place. They stayed like that for three dances and the band then began to play a livelier tune.

"Sit this one out?" Ginny asked. Seeing Fred and George headed to the dance floor with a pair of lovely girls he recognized as Fleur's cousins, Harry quickly nodded his head and cleared out some room on the dance floor for those wild Weasleys.

Walking back with arms intertwined, Harry noticed his table had far fewer occupants. Draco was still quizzing McGonagall about classes, apparently having nothing else he wanted to talk about. Harry noted it didn't look like the stern professor would put up with it for much longer. Dumbledore had turned his chair around and was tapping his cane along with the tune, watching the couples dancing happily. Hermione and Luna now had Ron sitting in between them. As they came closer, they heard Ron exclaim, "Crickey, are you serious?"

Sitting down, Harry asked, "Serious about what?"

"Well," Luna began, "I was just telling Ron about how Dad heard that Milrenish fairies will try to make you fall in love with the first person you dance with at a wedding."

Ron gulped noticeably while Hermione shook her head at him. Luna's father was actually out on the dance floor with a lovely brunette witch, though he seemed rather uncomfortable. Soon, both Harry and Ginny burst out laughing. Grasping her brother's arm, Ginny exclaimed, "Oh Ron, I just don't think its meant to be."

"Aye mate, she's definitely not your type," Harry added, wrapping his arm protectively around his pretty redhead.

"Well, I hope… bloody awkward thing that, they should warn a person," Ron stuttered. Then looking at Luna, asked, "I suppose it's safe for me now. Care for a dance, Luna?"

She nodded and accepted Ron's hand. As they were walking away, Ginny whispered to him, "Perhaps since his first dance was with his sister, maybe the fairies will make him fall in love on this dance."

Harry laughed along with her, but glanced to Hermione. She had been right put off when Ron started dating Lavender Brown last school year, but now she simply wore a polite smile and mentioned, "I do think Luna's a great friend and a dear, but I wished she'd look into things rather than just believing blindly all of the time. You know I've never heard of any reference to a Milrenish fairy."

"Well, you didn't take Care of Magical Creatures last year did you?"

Harry and the girls turned their head toward Draco, who had apparently overheard them and deemed this worthy of stopping his conversation with McGonagall. The teacher quickly excused herself and escaping Draco, walked over to speak with Professor Flitwick and Ron's great–grandfather Horatio.

"Milrenish fairies are perfectly real," Draco continued with a smile. Harry immediately assumed he was lying to get a rise out of Hermione. She apparently had the same idea as she huffed and looked back to Harry and Ginny.

"What's the matter, Granger?" he asked. "You doubt my sincerity? I'm obviously trustworthy, head boy and all."

That was the first time Draco had ever referred to his new position with anything but disdain, but it had been awhile since he had gotten a rise out of Hermione and found himself missing butting heads with her. Judging by the murderous glint in her eyes, it looked as if he received the intended reaction. As he prepared to defend Hermione's upcoming retort, Dumbledore spoke first, "Enchanting creatures, I've heard."

"Excuse me, sir?" Hermione asked.

"Milrenish fairies, Miss Granger," he continued. "I've been told many fascinating stories about their antics. They enjoy the warm weather and lots of people, so they often show up for weddings. Never had the luck to see one myself. I've heard they are quite small."

"Sir, if you've never seen them—"

"Faith, Granger," Draco said. If Hermione didn't know better, she would swear that there was sincerity behind those words. She turned away quickly for it seemed her mind almost had her searching his eyes for some more sign of it.

"Indeed," Dumbledore agreed, "something most vital for us all. Eh, Arthur?"

Mr. Weasley walked over and shook Dumbledore's hand as he asked, "Do you think I might trouble you to help an old man down to the dance floor. I would enjoy a dance with the bride."

"Oh course, Albus," he answered. And as they were walking away, Harry head the older man say, "Really a pretty girl this one."

The dancing continued as the four Hogwarts students sat quietly at their table. Harry would whisper back and forth with Ginny and Hermione turned and watched the dancing. Draco began enchanting the bits of food left on his plate and bouncing them up and down on the table. Harry turned to him and asked, "If you're so desperate for attention, why not head out there and show them how well we Potters can dance."

Grunting, Draco replied, "While you might have inherited Dad's luck with the red-heads, I think Mum passed me on a degree of gracefulness you seem to be lacking."

"Oh, are red heads not your thing, mate?" Fred asked. He and George were suddenly standing directly behind Draco. Trying to outwardly seem calm, Draco was naturally cautious around the pranksters.

He winced when George slapped him on the back and said, "We were having our annual summit just now and decided you've been a right good sport about us trying to blow you up on numerous occasions this week. And helping Mum was a cute gesture."

"Aye," Fred added.

"So, since you're Harry's brother, we'll give you another chance."

With a wide smile, George concluded, "We have now removed you from the refused service list at Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes. Feel free to express your friendship by giving us all your galleons any time you want."

They both extended their hands towards him and Draco put some trust in their good nature before accepting them. Walking off, they soon began looking backward suspiciously. Harry, Ginny and Hermione thought it would be a good idea to scoot their chairs away from Draco's area. They were proven correctly when a red and gold fire sparked on Draco's jacket. Throwing it to the ground, Draco stamped out the fire and patted his back, trying to look behind himself to see if he was still alit.

The howling laughter in the distance silenced quickly after Mrs. Weasley marched off in that direction. Turning back to his brother, Harry was amazed to see him sit down with a slight smile on his face.

"No hexes or screaming, M—Potter?" Hermione asked.

Turning the smile straight, Draco answered, "Is that a challenge?"

"Just an observation, no reason to be all testy."

"Testy? When have I ever been—"

"You aren't really going to finish that sentence are you?"

"Harry," Draco began, turning away from his feud with Hermione briefly, "I'd like some stimulating conversation today. See if you can find her cat, would you?"

Grunting Ginny stood up and announced, "I'm tired of sitting around. Dance with me, Harry."

Without another word, Ginny left with Harry pulled along behind her. As they were walking down, Rona and Luna were walking back past them. They reached the table and sat down and Ron quickly scooped some more food onto his plate and began eating again. Luna looked over at Hermione and smiled, saying, "How are you enjoying the party, Hermione?"

"Oh, yes. I'm very happy for Bill and all the Weasleys," Hermione answered as she pecked at her plate. "You looked lovely out there dancing by the way."

Luna tilted her head a bit to the side and widened her smile. She then leaned closer and asked, "You have been out dancing yet, haven't you?"

"Oh no, not yet—"

"Oh my, Ron, dance with Hermione," Luna insisted. Ron choked a bit on his food and mumbled something incoherent. Acting as if she had heard him clear as day, Luna explained, "But it's awful bad luck not to dance at a wedding. What if the fairies decide you don't want to fall in love and fate turns against you?"

"I don't really believe in _fate _or anything like that," Hermione said quietly.

"Don't believe… well that's no excuse," Luna insisted. "My mother always said better safe than sorry. Ron, I can't believe you won't dance with your best friend to save her hope of everlasting love. Will you dance with her, Draco?"

"NO!" Draco, Hermione and Ron all shouted together.

Luna shook her head as if they were all utterly mad and grabbed the next arm that walked by. It turned out to be, Bill. Smiling she asked, "Bill will you share the next dance with Hermione. You've already danced so the fairies won't match you with her. Please you have to save her from a lifetime of pain and sorrow."

"Of course," he answered, "but don't try anything. Fleur is a jealous woman."

Bill led Hermione off towards the dance floor with Luna looking after, winking at them. Swallowing his food, Ron said, "Can't believe what you almost did, Luna? Hermione and Fer—Draco would never dance together."

"I don't even care for dancing," Draco said to no one in particular.

Luna huffed as if offended and marched around the table. Grabbing Draco by the arm she said, "You have to dance. Honestly, if not for the Milrenish fairies and me this would be the death of love, this wedding. You don't mind if I dance with Draco, do you Ron?"

"Well, uh… no, I suppose… if you want to," he answered staggeringly.

Not particularly wanting to argue the point and noticeably happy about the disgruntled look on Ron's face when he begrudgingly gave permission, Draco allowed himself to be pulled with little resistance onto the enchanted floor. He noting briefly what a nice piece of magic Fred and George seemed capable of just as a new song started up and they began twirling around the floor. Luna was as flighty a dancer as he had expected. She had not all that much more style than Harry, but her small feet hardly hurt at all and nothing dulled her wide smile. Draco thought that Luna would be a difficult person to be angry around, certainly the type of calming, pleasant influence Weasley needed.

Draco did feel somewhat exposed though. Every so often he would catch a set of eyes that was shocked to see him out dancing. He tried to maintain an expressionless face, but found it difficult. This was actually, Draco thought, a fine mission to see how comfortable everyone present was with him. The two warmest expressions belonged to Harry and Dumbledore, both smiling warmly when they saw him. Ginny didn't seem openly hostile though she probably disapproved of his dancing partner being one of her dearest friends. Hermione appeared rather shocked and Bill offered a curt nod, which Draco tried to return with an honest smile. After the first song, Draco started to walk away, but Luna caught his arm and kept him out there for three more dances, including a slow and quiet waltz that Luna skipped her way through as if some merrier tune was playing that only she could hear.

When he finally insisted to Luna that he was done, she took off dancing with her father and Draco walked off the floor. Back on the grass, he came upon his table to find Harry, Hermione and Ginny all cornered by Professor Slughorn and looking very uncomfortable. When he saw Draco approaching, the rotund teacher smiled and greeted him, "And here we have the second famous Mr. Potter. It's a pleasure to see you again lad. Your new look agrees with you, I dare say."

Shaking hands, he continued, "I was just discussing another Slug Club meeting on the train ride in a few weeks. We'd dearly love to have you join us this year, my boy."

Looking around, it seemed as if every other expression was so terrified of the prospect of sitting with Horace Slughorn for another train ride, they would wish it on no one, not even Draco.

"Well, I'm—"

"Come now, don't be so hesitant. We'd certainly enjoy the company. I was often telling Harry how much I cared for your dear mother, Lily. She was as cheeky as him and as clever as you. I've long said she should have been sorted in our House. It's a bit uncommon for muggleborns but not unheard of, especially for a witch of her high caliber... Oh, perhaps you haven't heard, Dumbledore convinced me I'd be needed at Hogwarts for another year at least, specifically to take over Slytherin House again due to Professor Snape's tragic passing and other… problems."

Interested now in any information he could uncover about the state of Slytherin House, Draco decided to press on. He had not heard or seen any of his housemates since the evening before the attack on Hogwarts. More than a few of them, he accepted, would have it out for him now; both for his new allegiance and his new last name. Even Harry seemed curious.

"What sort of problems, professor?" Draco asked.

"Well, the lack of students for one," he began. "We failed to receive back Hogwarts letters from all but a few seventh years. Mr. Zabini and Ms. Parkinson seem to be the only two returning besides yourself. And the letters we received from those two were anything, but… well, don't let Dumbledore know I let you in on this, but they both had the audacity to threaten not to return if a Potter was in Slytherin. Can you believe the nerve? As if we'd give up the first Slytherin Head Boy since You-Know-Who!"

The statements from Zabini and Parkinson were not that shocking, considering he would have felt the exact same way were places reversed. But this connection between Voldemort and himself left him acting like Ron, trying to sink into his own chair.

"So, I have to say, no Crabbe, Goyle or Malfoy in the seventh year," Ginny said, "Couldn't have said I saw that coming. It's bloody brilliant though, much prefer you as a Potter."

Slughorn continued, "Regardless, of the sixty students who might have been returning, we'll have only 28. Seems a great deal transferred to schools in other countries as well. I hear a few seventh and sixth years might even have started taking on duties for He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. Think, dear Mr. Potter, more than a fourth of our House will be compromised of first years. Luckily a decent amount of the Quidditch team is returning at least."

"Well, thank heavens for small favors," Draco drawled, which earned a muffled laugh from Ginny.

"I personally look forward to the challenge of rebuilding the image of the Slytherin House. We were very well thought of before You-Know-Who came around and mucked everything up."

"Yes, but are any students failing to return from any House besides Slytherin?" Hermione asked.

"Oh indeed," Slughorn answered. "Nearly a half-dozen Hufflepuffs are gone, though we received letters that their families don't want to send them back to Hogwarts after the attack nothing relating to turning sides. Some 20 Ravenclaws aren't returning and I hear that they suspect about half to be gone over to work for the enemy, including nearly a half-dozen seventh years."

"Oh my, Luna will be devastated," Ginny said with a hand over her face.

"And of course, four Gryffindors have left to fight against us—"

"What!" Harry exclaimed. "Who?"

"I believe a pair of sixth years, Mr. Johannson and Ms. Hermen. As well as a pair of seventh year girls. I fear with Ms. Granger in the Heads' dorm, Ms. Brown and Patil will be alone in their dorm room this year."

Draco looked at Harry's shocked expression. He had never honestly believed Voldemort's supporters extended outside of Slytherin House and certainly not all the way up to the Gryffindor Tower. Grasping his shoulder, Draco said, "Remember Peter. The ambitious and cunning types they put in Slytherin may be more predisposed to turning to Voldemort's side…"

Slughorn shuttered at the name as Draco continued, "But other qualities can be corrupted too. Wit and Intellect can easily become feelings of superiority. Valour and Courage can become a thirst for glory and power."

"At least the Hufflepuffs all seem on the right side," Harry added.

"Well, look at what the Sorting Hat says. Hufflepuffs are loyal and fair," Hermione explained. "Those aren't as easily twisted as the other qualities."

"Well, let's talk no more of sad things on this happy day," Slughorn stated. "Now, Mr. Potter, about you joining the Slug Club—"

He was interrupted as Ginny grabbed fiercely onto Harry's shirt and laughed into his chest. Hermione and Harry both smiled at her reaction. Draco began speaking before Slughorn continued, "Well professor, I'm sure I'd be willing to accompany the rest of the group to some meetings. Of course it will be impossible on the train ride, Granger and I have to meet with the prefects and patrol the cabins."

"Oh, of course, well, I'm sure Ms. Weasley and your brother will be there and can inform you of our first meeting."

Harry and Ginny stared at each other for a moment, while Hermione started to grin slightly. Before anyone else could respond, Draco answered, "Yes, of course, they will."

And for the first time in weeks, Harry had to fight down the intense desire to take out his wand and hex Draco without mercy. The knowing grin on his face only increased the desire as Slughorn walked off towards another table. Leaning over the table, Harry spat, "You know I'm going to kill you for this."

"Some things are worth death and better to die by your hand than certain others," Draco answered before finishing off his cup of butterbeer. "Look at it this way at least Granger has an excuse. I suppose I saved her… makes me a hero, I'd think. And why worry now, its weeks away. Speaking of which, and please Weaslette don't take this as an affront to you father's shed, but we aren't spending the rest of the bloody summer here, are we?"

"Actually, I'd like to arrange a meeting with Professor Dumbledore as soon as possible. After that I thought we'd spend the rest of the summer at Grimmauld Place. I haven't had been there since… well it's been more than a year and a half. I know Sirius hated the place, but it's just about all we have left of him. Maybe we could finally find a way to get down the portrait of his mother."

"Sounds like one of your famous Potter adventures," Draco said. "I might fancy giving it a bit of a try."

"I thought Ron and Hermione might join us and help out," Harry added. "What do you think Hermione?"

"Um… well, I suppose so," Hermione tried to motion to Harry's right side, but he didn't catch on. "I'll owl Mum and Dad to let them know. Can I use Hedwig, Harry? Pig has been a bit unreliable lately."

Harry nodded with a smile. After several seconds of silence, Draco coughed pointedly and Harry turned to see Ginny looking down with a hurt look in her eyes. Harry looked around and saw that many of the guests had recently left and Bill and Fleur were dancing with each other again. The day was winding down and as much as he hated himself for it, Harry knew what he had to do to keep her safe. He had to—

"You'll be able to sneak away to visit won't you Weaslette?" Draco asked.

In a flash three heads spun around to look at him. Harry was furious. He couldn't very well break up with Ginny now. If anything happened… Draco might have just killed her. Though smiling, Ginny tried to sound harsh, "Well, since you were so polite. I'm helping Mum clear up tomorrow and then of course I promised to spend a few days with Luna, but after that… is that all right with you Harry? I mean he can't really invite me to your house, I guess."

Swallowing, Harry answered, "Of course you can. If it's alright with Molly."

Kissing him on the cheek, Ginny stood and whispered, "I'm going to ask her now and I'll let Ron know too."

As she ran off, Harry began grinding his teeth and announced, "Will you excuse us, Hermione?"

Looking between the two, Hermione stood and walked quickly off towards Ron, Fred and George. Let it never be said that Hermione Granger wasn't a perceptive young witch.

Harry turned back on Draco and was right ready to tear into him, "What the bl—"

"It was the wrong idea. Your leaving her now helps sod all. You shield your mind as best you can and remember; you're _Harry bloody Potter_, you'll save her should the need arise. And don't get into a row with me about it. You're the blooming hero, so you know leaving her to keep her safe is just plain cowardice. That's something I know all about."

Harry walked around and pulled Draco up to his feet, saying, "She could die. Do you understand what—"

"Potter, you can't live afraid of—"

"You bastard, just because you never loved anything doesn't mean I don't. She'll die. Loving me kills people! There's no good or joy in it! She is going to die, just like—"

**"She isn't Mum!"**

Several tables worth of witches and wizards were staring at them, Harry released Draco's collar and tried to look away from him. Draco leaned forward and whispered, "You don't just see a face. You see some of her strength. Just like Mum, your bird's a blooming spitfire. And just like Mum she's smart enough to know the risks. They don't share the same fate. I don't believe it. So you've had it bad. You aren't the only one. And we aren't bound to our pasts. I can't believe that. Don't fear tomorrow. Fight for it. Don't be afraid, Harry, it doesn't suit you. That's my bit."

Harry found himself crying and clutching Draco. The auburn-haired boy didn't tense or try to back away, but held him up and patted him on the back of the neck. Harry looked up to see that Ron and Hermione had joined them.

The four sat down and shared a round of butterbeers and Harry quietly explained that he would not be breaking up with Ginny. When Ron found out Draco was responsible for this, his offering of, "Cheers, Ferret" seemed downright magnanimous. Ginny and Luna joined them after a bit and they whittled away the afternoon speaking about Quidditch, which Hermione ignored, and classes, which everyone except Hermione, Draco and Luna ignored.

"Oi, you lot, hurry up, they're about to attempt an escape," George called to them. Sure enough Bill and Fleur were already nearly past the tables and heading across the field back towards the Burrow. With swishes of their wands, Fred and George conjured small bags of rice at every table and grabbed a pair chasing madly after them. They tossed the rice up in the air and it landed on the couple, who soon realized it was sticking to them and their clothes. Seeing this, Charlie and Ron pelted them with handfuls. By the time Harry, Ginny, Hermione and even Draco had thrown their handfuls; the pair was completely covered in white rice. By now Fred and George were rolling on the ground laughing themselves to tears.

Rather than trying to push through the crowd of rice-hurling madmen, Bill grabbed Fleur by the waist and with wide set of smiles and a _pop_ disappeared. Turning back towards the wedding, Harry saw Mrs. Weasley closing in on her sons when they disaparated themselves with a pair of sharp _cracks_. Mrs. Weasley fumed, "How dare they!"

Arthur soon took her by the hand and led her back to her chair. Most of the guests excused themselves now that the bride and groom had left for the honeymoon. Mrs. Weasley received many congratulations on the event and the food. Soon, Luna and her father escorted the guest who had stayed with them back to collect their belongings. The remaining few guests sat down around a single table as the sun set. Charlie and Ron were sitting next to each other discussing the Cannon's latest loss. Arthur was talking in hushed tones with Dumbledore and Madam Maxine while his wife snoozed against his shoulder. Hermione and Ginny sat on Harry's left talking about the ceremony. Hagrid was talking to, of all people, Draco about dragon-breeding.

"For all people said about me not keepin' him, little Norbert wouldn't 'ave been all that more a handful than Gwarp," Hagrid explained. "After all hatched him by myself and had a book tellin' me what ta' do and everything."

Draco replied, "I really would have liked to have seen him. Just caught a glimpse of the egg through your window. As for keeping it, I don't know, remember, 'Draco dormiens nunquam titillandus.'"

Harry asked, "What does that mean?"

Hermione overhead him and turned her attention away from Ginny, "Honestly Harry, it's your school motto. You see it on the Hogwarts crest. 'A Sleeping Dragon Must Never Be Tickled.'"

"Indeed Miss Granger," Dumbledore added. He was now standing behind Harry. "I thank you all for a wonderful day. I am quite exhausted from such a fine event. Harry, in response to your letter, I look forward to hearing your story. Perhaps I might pay a visit to you in two weeks' time, I have one more trip to see the Minister before our plans may be finalized. I do apologize for the delay."

Standing, Harry answered, "Of course, professor. We'll be leaving for Grimmauld Place before then."

"I shall see you there then, oh and Draco has already been let in on the secret, so you shouldn't have any problems with the Fidelius Charm," Dumbledore added with a wink. An instant later he was gone, with hardly any sound at all.

"So what shall we do now?" Ron asked.

"Well, son, I'm taking your mother in to lie down," Arthur said. "Perhaps you could clear this all away for us."

As Arthur helped Molly to her feet and started off, Harry turned around and surveyed the damage. A dozen tables, 300 chairs between the reception and ceremony, piles of uneaten and half-eaten food at every table, the presents table and of course a giant dance floor charmed out of the muddy field. If was anything like their portable swamp, no one short of Flitwick could get rid of it.

Taking the lead, Harry began handing out assignments, "Alright, well, Charlie, why don't you get those presents inside. Remember to keep Fred and George's separate. Ron and Draco, start transporting the chairs back onto the loaders. Ginny and I will work on clearing the tables and sending the tables back to being boulders. Hermione, why don't you see if you can find anyway to unmake the dance floor?"

Each person grumbled a bit before heading off to perform their jobs, except Hermione, who seemed quite anxious for the challenge. Harry started at the opposite end as Ginny, but soon she was at his side. Holding hands, they moved along quickly and silently clearing the tables. When the last of the food was removed, he levitated the tables back across the street. Walking back he noticed the chairs and presents were all cleared. The only remaining piece of work was the dance floor.

Charlie, Ron and Ginny were standing around the edge. Draco was crouching a couple of meters out on it and Hermione stood in the middle trying various charms to remove it.

"Come on you two," Harry called out. "We'll just have the twins to get rid of it next time they visit!"

"No," Hermione stated. "I've almost got it figured out. The de-solidifying charm almost worked, so I know I'm getting close. They just confused me by mixing a charm and a transfiguration in the same spell. I can't figure it out quite yet."

Harry rubbed the bridge of his nose. It was now nearly 10 o'clock and the length of the day and all the activities were starting to drain on all of them. Charlie shook his head, smiling and returning towards the Burrow. Ron called out, "Come on. I'm blooming tired and I want to sleep in my bed for the first time in a week. Figure it out in the morning!"

Hermione and Draco both ignored the rest and continued trying to figure it out. Ron left in a huff for the house, saying good night to Harry and Ginny on his way. The two remaining observers sat on the ground and waited for their friends to give up for the night. Finally, Draco stood up and exclaimed, "It wasn't a mixed spell."

Walking out to the center, he waited until Hermione's eyes lit up and nearly yelled, "Of course! There are two of them. They just cast a pair of spells at the same time. Must have had it worked out beforehand."

"One must have hardened the ground, while the other—"

"Transfigured that into a polished floor," Hermione finished for him. "Excellent. I'll transfigure it back to a rock hard ground and you soften it back to normal. Combined the two should take care of it."

"Good, now hurry up so I can go to bed!" Ginny yelled, grinning madly. She and Harry stood up while Hermione and Draco positioned themselves a couple meters apart in the center of the floor. Hermione raised three fingers and when the last one fell, they cast together.

"_Vicissitudo!_"

"_Tenera!_"

As the dance floor shifted back to ground, Hermione smiled widely. Her smile turned into a scream as the ground kept devolving into a dank bog, which they both fell straight down into. Draco stood up and found it reached his upper chest. More than a bit shorter than him, Hermione was buried up to her mouth. Grabbing and lifting her slightly, they turned to find Ginny and Harry laughing at their predicament. Not just laughing, but rolling on the ground-Fred and Greg Weasley-laughing. Half-carrying Hermione, who walked on her tip-toes to try and keep her mouth above the mucky, dark water, Draco trudged towards the shore.

"Any help here?" Draco asked, lifting Hermione up towards them. Harry and Ginny stopped long enough to each take one of Hermione's hands. As she was lifted up, the water splashed back down in Draco's face. Tossing his wand onto the shore, Draco pulled himself up onto the regular ground. Next to him Hermione was clutching her wand tightly. Both were covered from head to toe in the stinky water, there dress clothes ruined. Hermione was missing one of her shoes and had to summon it out of the mud.

"I suppose we put a little too much into it," Hermione remarked.

"Well," Harry began as he helped Draco up, "Congratulations. You both proved yourselves just as clever as and unfortunately a bit more powerful than Fred and George. _Scourgify_."

Harry's spell cleaned up the wetness and some of the smell from the pair. Ginny gave Harry a kiss before leading Hermione off to the Burrow. Draco and Harry marched down to the shed to get their trunks before heading up to Ron's room. Opening the shed door, Harry remarked, "Pretty good day, huh?"

"I suppose," Draco replied evenly.

Harry smiled at him and remarked, "Well at least the Weasleys don't hate you anymore. And… and thanks for… with Ginny."

"Well can't have my brother make a fool of himself," Draco replied. "Even if he is a silly git."

"Who ended up in a self-made mud hole tonight?"

"It was a bog, not a mud hole. And Granger did half the work."

Harry levitated his trunk and started back up towards the house with Draco close at his heels. All things considered it was a great day. One of the best Harry could remember. Tomorrow, they would all head to Grimmauld Place and hopefully next week, they'd be significantly closer to stopping Voldemort. As Harry opened the front door, both brothers found themselves, for the first time in years, looking forward to what tomorrow might bring.


	9. Vacation at Grimmauld and Godric

**CHAPTER EIGHT: Vacation at Grimmauld and Godric**

The next week breezed by fairly quickly. Number 12, Grimmauld Place had in the fourteen months since Sirius' death fallen back into a great state of disrepair. There were no permanent residents anymore, just the occasional Order member stopping by for a minute or a small meeting. It may have seemed a rotten home before, but at least it could be considered a house. Most of the possessions of the Order that had not been claimed quickly were apparently taken by Mundungus Fletcher to sell off or destroyed by Kreacher before his move to Hogwarts.

It seemed far worse than just that though. Dust had piled on in thick layers. All manner of creatures had moved back into the residence. From a family of rats and a skunk that Draco and Ron had been unfortunate enough to discover in the basement; to the nests of boggarts and pixies in the upper floors. Somehow Harry found a hinkypunk hiding out in the front yard. The explanation for its appearance arrived later in the form of a Howler from Mrs. Weasley. Apparently nearly a dozen had arrived at the Burrow due to the tremendously popular little bog across the street. This ghostly creature must have followed them, hoping Draco and Hermione would make it a new home, but lost them when they entered the house.

One good thing at least came about of the week of hard labour. Ron and Draco started to develop a positive relationship based on their mutual loathing of both skunks and cleaning. It seemed as if they would complain every day from dawn until dusk. The two still would admit nothing except open-contempt for the other, but Harry chose to think of it as a start. The first break in the complaining came on Wednesday morning when Hedwig flew in the front window and perched on her stand in the front sitting room. Nicodemus took this opportunity to scoot to the other edge of his perch, as far away from the smaller bird as possible. Even if their masters got along, these two birds never would. Soon after a somewhat familiar short-eared owl entered with a letter clutched in its mouth. Harry called Draco in the room before opening it. The four sat down and Harry read the letter aloud.

_Dear Draco and Harry,_

_It was good to hear from you both. The wedding sounded wonderful. I kept my promise and haven't done any magic since you left. But I can't wait to meet you on the train. I can't believe its two and a half whole weeks away still. I already started reading some of my books. I think my favorite class will be Charms. I look forward to seeing you both again and meeting your friends. Say hello to them for me as well._

_Yours truly,_ _Sarah Witchett_

_p.s. Please apologize to Hedwig again for me sending the letter with Georgiana instead. She hasn't had anything to deliver since you left._

"She sounds like she adores you, Harry," Hermione said with a knowing grin. "You may have to watch out for another crush this year."

Ron chortled at the idea, but Draco asked, "What makes you think that? It's addressed to us both."

Picking up her wand and walking to the door, Hermione argued, "Yes, I wonder why _I_ would have a hard time imagining _you_ being polite enough to a muggle-born witch to earn anything besides animosity in return."

With as earnest a tone as he could muster, Draco said, "I'm not the same person I was."

Hermione responded, "I don't care about your name, Potter. You want us to accept you as different you have to earn it."

Hermione and Draco spent the better part of the next six days doing their level best to ignore and avoid each other. To the others she would only describe him as impossible and he would describe her as hard-headed. Ron and Harry found themselves spending almost no time together during this week. If Ron and Hermione were talking in the sitting room, then Harry and Draco were cleaning out the library. If Harry and Hermione were practicing charms in the upstairs office, then Draco and Ron were downstairs playing chess.

That was one positive surprise. One night after being thoroughly trounced by Ron at a game of wizard's chess, Harry had gone to get something to eat from the kitchen. When he returned, Draco had taken up his seat. Harry found out his brother was actually skilled when Ron hadn't claimed victory an hour later. Or two hours later. Ron finally admitted to a draw around midnight. As ecstatic whoop went through the house the next day when Ron won the next game. He was smiling brightly, but tried to be a good winner, saying, "Good game, never had to fight so hard for a win."

"Well, apparently you've been playing against the wrong Potter," Draco replied.

Harry was more than a little disgruntled at the fact that Ron laughed at the joke. So much so, that Harry refused to play Draco for fear of losing and making the auburn-haired lad feel even better about himself than he usually did. But Ron and Draco still played chess and sometimes one was the victor and sometimes the other and sometimes they stopped to lightly mock Harry.

The open hostilities between Draco and Hermione ended the following Monday when she accompanied the other three for their apparation tests. At first it seemed like it would be a long day, Hermione was silently scowling after Draco suggested they apparate into the testing facility. Even if they didn't openly hate each other, none of the group could discover how he… frustrated her so easily now, or why he enjoyed doing it so much. Ron was inconsolably nervous for the entire subway ride across London. His chattering teeth and shaking knees were drawing attention from everyone who shared a train car with them.

Draco eventually leaned in and whispered something in Ron's ear that the others couldn't hear and the boy appeared to calm quickly. The summer apparation testing site was located in the Ministry of Magic. When they arrived at the correct phone booth, Harry thought it seemed somewhat odd for all four teenagers to crowd in the device at the same time. He quickly dialed 6-2-4-4-2 and said, "Harry Potter, Ron Weasley and Draco P—Malfoy for the apparation test and Hermione Granger accompanying us."

The four badges bearing the names _Harry Potter_, _Ron Weasley_, _Hermione Granger_ and _Draco Puh-Malfoy_ and business were issued and the box began descending. Draco looked at his a moment before fastening it on like the others. The lobby was not the bustle of activity it had been in the past, but Harry was please to see more people than the last time he was here. The first thing Harry noticed was that the Fountain of Magical Brethren had been rebuilt, although the hissing water was no longer accompanied by the sounds of apparation. Instead dozens of other elevator entrances were present.

"Dad told us about this," Ron said in a hushed voice. "After You-Know-Who showed up, Scrimgeor set up wards to prevent apparation and installed more phone boxes all around London. It was terribly inconvenient with the long lines at the start and end of the day, but Dad agreed it was for the best."

Silently they marched past the guard, who eyeballed Harry upon his entrance. Still, the group entered the main lift, pushing the button for Basement Level Six – Department of Magical Transportation. After a short ride the doors opened on a long hallway of portraits. As they walked along, Harry noticed some of the honored individuals included Jocunda Sykes, who made the first Atlantic broom crossing in 1935, Augustus Constantine, who invented the floo network in 124 A.D. and brought together wizards all over the Ancient Roman Empire, and Marietta McGonagall, who made the world's longest recorded apparation when traveling from London to Istanbul in 1755. Harry noted this portrait seemed somewhat familiar-looking. There was a witch with dark hair wearing spectacles. He smiled pointedly at her and received a friendly, but brief nod in return.

At the end of the hall, they came to a set of double doors that read, _Apparation Test Centre_ and underneath that a posted notice informing them, _Summer testing begins August 19th at 10 a.m. promptly_.

Harry had heard back when they were taking classes last year that this was the largest testing period. It had all the students with birthdays after the spring test as well as people who had failed the first time around like Ron. Hermione still argued it was grossly unfair since he had only forgotten half an eyebrow. Today however, there were less than two dozen present and nobody from Slytherin House.

"I suppose if they're off killing and running amok they aren't as concerned with following the letter of the law," Hermione said.

After a few minutes the final student arrived. Harry smiled at seeing an elderly short witch being escorted in by Neville Longbottom. The terrified boy from first year had grown into a competent, if somewhat tentative young man. Seeing his group of friends, he left his grandmother in the waiting area and joined them.

"Hi Harry, Ron, Hermione, who's your friend?" he asked.

Ron leapt in front of Harry and proclaimed, "Come on Neville, surely you remember Harry's evil twin brother, Draco."

Neville's expression morphed slowly from confused to terrified to angry. Standing a little straighter, he looked over at the boy to Harry's right. Taking the initiative himself, Draco extended his hand and said, "Hello Longbottom. Taking Magical Creatures again this year?"

"Oh…um…well yes, see I just have the three other NEWT level classes and it isn't as difficult as some of the others," Neville said. "So… how are you two…"

"Cor, this gets annoying after awhile," Ron commented.

"Nobody has had to listen to it more than me," Draco retorted. "Long story short, I'm not a Malfoy. I'm a Potter."

"But he's still a humorless git," Ron added.

"And your still a penniless Weasel," Draco snapped back.

Any further argument between the two ended when Wilkie Twycross entered and announced, "Attention ladies and gentlemen and welcome to today's testing. I certainly wish you all the luck in the world. Now, since there are so few of you, we'll take you in two groups. First, I'd like all individuals with last names starting in A through M."

Neville walked forward slowly. Draco looked at Harry and said, "I suppose this is me. I'll see you in a bit."

As he was walking away, Ron nervously looked back and forth and whispered, "Draco, about the git comment—"

"Don't worry Weasel, I'll take care of it," Draco finished before passing through another set of doors.

Hermione turned to Ron and asked, "What is he taking care of?"

"Nothing. Just a little help with the test so I don't leave anything behind this time," Ron tentatively explained.

"Please Ronald, don't tell me that you are not only trusting him, that you are also cheating with him," Hermione exclaimed.

Ron quickly put his hand over her mouth and whispered, "Want to say it again? I don't think Twycross quite heard you."

After about five minutes, the doors opened and Neville came running towards them. Draco walked at his usual pace somewhat behind him. When he reached the group, Neville yelled, "I did it! Gran will be pleased as punch. And I was quick about it too, only the third one behind Mal—Draco and Terry Boot."

As the remaining students headed towards the door, Ron looked pointedly at Draco, who said, "It's taken care of. Just take the second spot from the right and you'll pass."

Ron ran off past the other teenagers to get his chosen spot. After they were gone, Neville turned and asked Draco, "So what's it like being a Potter?"

Chuckling, Draco replied, "Well, I'm not as influential or respected or powerful as I was as a Malfoy. Come to think of it, I spend a great deal more time afraid for my life now. But we can't change the way things are."

"I imagine Harry would be an ace brother," Neville said.

"He's all right I suppose," Draco said and leaned close so Hermione couldn't overhear him. "Don't tell anyone this or you'll spend the rest of seventh year with jelly-legs, but I actually like the bugger."

Neville stood back, his eyes wide with shock. Draco pushed his hair back out of his eyes and nodded. Hermione had enough of him and his secrets and demanded, "What did you do for Ronald? If he has to cheat to do it…"

At that moment Ron came racing out the door, much like Neville had a couple of minutes ago and exclaimed, "I passed! Thanks mate."

Hermione, Draco and Neville all stood frozen with shock for a moment while Ron stood there with his hand extended toward Draco. The two boys shook hands politely as Harry came up to them smiling.

"You want to tell him?" Harry asked. Draco motioned for Harry to proceed as he and Ron separated hands. "Well, remember when I pretended to slip you Felix Felicis?"

"You really did it this time? But I thought we used it all and the Ferret said he would charm his spot so I could do a Follow-Up Apparation since they're easier."

"There's no such thing as Follow-Up Apparation," Harry continued. "Draco and I just decided you needed a confidence boost like before—"

"And we figured neither of you would have any problem believing I'd be up for cheating," Draco added with a smirk.

"Well blimey, I suppose as long as you two tell me you'll do it for me, I can do just about anything. I could be the most powerful wizard ever!" Ron exclaimed.

"Why don't you leave Voldemort to me and just enjoy having your license," Harry suggested with a smile. "So what are your plans for the rest of the day Neville?"

"Well, I'm awful glad I passed, _since Gran already left for home_, but I think I'll go to St. Mun… I'll go tell Mum and Dad about it. Gran and I are probably going to go over for supper at Uncle Algie's to celebrate."

Stepping into the elevator, Draco reached forward and pushed the button. Harry soon noticed that they were heading up not down. He leaned over and saw that Draco had pushed the button for the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures on Basement Level 4. No sooner had the doors opened than Draco rushed out and walked into the doorway for the Beings Division.

"What's he doing?" Ron asked. Harry shrugged and went after him through the door, followed closely by the others. Draco was already talking to a wizard in the office labeled, _Connor Periwinkle – Head of Division_. Harry and the other three took seats and waited. After a moment a young witch behind the counter asked, "Excuse me, might I help you?"

"No thank you," Harry explained. "We're just waiting for our friend."

Neville and Hermione were soon starting a conversation about her bog. Apparently, it was quite the popular story at Fred and George's shop in Diagon Alley. Ron simply tapped his feet on the marble floor. Eventually he asked Harry, "What's taking him so long? I want to go apparate somewhere. Aren't you anxious to start trying it?"

Harry nodded with a knowing smile. He hadn't informed Ron of his own tendency to break that particular rule, especially under Draco's encouragement. After another fifteen minutes, Harry noticed Draco and Periwinkle stand and shake hands. As he exited, Harry was about to ask for a reason when he noticed Draco's badge had changed. It now said, _Draco Potter, Apparation Test and Change of Name_.

Harry wrapped his arm around Draco as they went back into the elevator and Hermione pushed the button for the lobby. She took a moment to share a brief nod with Draco. After this, the attitude between the entire group would remain at least civil.

When the door opened so did Harry's mouth. A tremendous roar went up as some hundred witches and wizards had now filled the lobby. A dozen flashbulbs lit up as photographs were taken. When Harry's eyes were able to focus again he saw, standing front and center was a tall and frighteningly strong looking wizard with a buzz cut of brown hair. He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder and introduced himself, "Gawain Robards, Mr. Potter, I'm the Head of the Auror Department. If you'll please follow me."

Without waiting for a response, he began leading Harry and his friends through the crowd to a dais that had been assembled some time in the last half-hour directly in front of the fountain. Waiting for him on it were several familiar faces with familiar false smiles plastered all over them. Rufus Scrimgeor stood front and center and on either side of him were Dolores Umbridge and Percy Weasley. Harry found himself soon having his hand shook most furiously by Scrimgeor who announced to the crowd, "As Minister for Magic, it gives me the utmost pleasure to congratulate Mr. Harry Potter and his friends for successfully completing their Apparation tests. One big step closer towards stopping You-Know-Who. Any questions for the lad?"

Harry failed to see how having his license placed him any closer to defeating Voldemort. His more pressing concern at the moment was escaping without embarrassing his friends and Dumbledore or seeming like a Ministry puppet. It was Hermione who saw the first reporter to ask a question and then her badge, _Rita Skeeter, Daily Prophet and Registered Animagus_. She must have registered to prevent them from holding her secret and therefore illegal ability to change into a beetle over her.

Hermione tensed up noticeable as the woman asked, "Minister, how long has Mr. Potter been working for the Ministry?"

"Well," he replied, "Of course, he and his compatriots must finish school first before joining us here, _officially_. But it's quite obvious that we've all been on the same side since the beginning. Protecting the wizards and muggles of England is a mission we all stand firmly behind."

A round of cheers went up before another wizard got in a question when Scrimgeor pointed towards him, "Minister, could you introduce us to Mr. Potter's companions?"

Without looking at them of taking any notice to their reactions, Scrimgeor announced clearly, "But of course, firstly, this is Mr. Potter's dearest friend, Mr. Ronald Bilius Weasley, brother of my own assistant Percy, here. Next to him is Ms. Hermione Jane Granger, another friend and schoolmate of Mr. Potter, who will be Head Girl at Hogwarts this year, as my sources tell me. To her left is Mr. Neville Longbottom, who of course is the son of famed-Aurors Frank and Alice Longbottom. It's quite proud to see him taking the battle against You-Know-Who into the next generation despite the sadness of his parents' condition. And finally on the far end is Mr. Draco Malfoy, a true showing of unity to have the children of Death Eaters stand up with their greatest enemy in the name of—"

"Pardon me, Minister, but could you explain his name badge?" a witch standing directly in front of Draco asked.

Harry for the first time took his eyes away from Scrimgeor. Down the line Ron was blushing tremendously at the attention, Hermione appeared barely about to contain an outburst of rage. The comments about Neville and Draco had her ready to pounce on whoever spoke up next. Neville was like a deer caught in headlights with tears threatening the corners of his eyes. At the far end, Draco now had his hand over his badge as he shielded his eyes as every camera in the room was snapping at him and his new face. Draco began backing up and Harry thought for sure he was about to race right through the fountain when he backed into a taller wizard with long silver hair.

"Well, as I'm sure the Minister could tell you," Dumbledore began, "it is a private family matter that bears no notes on the proceedings here. The important message of the day should be the cooperation between this administration and Mr. Potter in the continuing struggle against Voldemort. Isn't that right, Minister?"

The entire audience gave the usual reaction to hearing the name of the most feared wizard in the world. Most winced in fear and terror, some outright coughed or yelped and a few towards the edges actually made their way out of the room. Scrimgeor was one of the few who coughed, before responding, "Without a doubt, Professor Dumbledore."

"Why that is in fact why I am pleased to announce the Minister has just agreed to give Mr. Potter access to meet with Azkaban prisoners, as a show of good faith in our united efforts to resolve the conflicts that now engulf us," Dumbledore added. Harry noted that the features of Scrimgeor's face indicated this was not a plan he had approved. Several cameras floated through the air back to Scrimgeor and he forced another smile onto his face.

"Indeed, this is a war the Ministry is determined to win," he answered. "It is important that the Ministry help all witches and wizards. From the Chosen One speaking with our enemies, to the house-witch reading our pamphlets."

"Now, if you'll excuse us," Dumbledore interjected, "I'm sure we don't want to stop these fine students from continuing about their day."

Ushered by Dumbledore, Harry and the others made their way to one of the exit lifts. As the front door shut, each of the students gave a noticeable sigh of relief and Draco finally lowered his hand from his badge. Leaning towards Harry in the cramped compartment, he tried to talk low enough for none of the others to hear, "I'm not ashamed or anything… it's just…"

Speaking clearly, the headmaster interrupted, "Of course we realize that this is very personal and private information, Draco. Certainly not the type of thing to be smeared across the front page of the _Daily Prophet_. And I am sorry to you as well, Mr. Longbottom. Apparently, some people place their own desires and motives above the feelings of others."

As the box rose up into a telephone booth outside what seemed to be one of several vacant old warehouses in this neighborhood. Neville said his goodbyes and with a loud _crack_ left for his grandmother's home just north of Basildon.

"Might I accompany you all back to Grimmauld Place?" Dumbledore asked. "I fear we all have a long overdue conversation ahead of us."

"Of course, sir," Harry responded. An apparation and an instant later, they stood and watched as Number 12 came into view and they marched up the front steps. Hedwig and Nicodemus had apparently gone out for the time being, so all four gathered around in the sitting room. Dumbledore sat down on a torn green recliner and propped his feet up on a matching stool. Harry and Draco sat on the couch next to the front windows and Hermione and Ron in chairs against the sidewall.

"Well," Dumbledore began, "obviously we have now received permission to visit Mundungus Fletcher in Azkaban. If he holds to the agreement I was attempting to negotiate just before he rushed out of the office to set-up that awful spectacle, Harry and a companion will be granted a single day pass for August 31st."

"Will you be coming, sir?" Harry asked.

"Unfortunately, I have Hogwarts business to attend to on that day, so no Harry. This you will have to accomplish without me. Draco, perhaps you could attend in my place?"

"What?" he asked. "You want me… to go _there_ with him? Why me and not one of them?"

Dumbledore's smile faded just slightly and he said, "I assumed you would want to be there to keep an eye on Harry. Also, you know the personalities and dangers of those imprisoned there perhaps best of all. It seemed more advantageous for you to be present. Certainly, we would never push you into anything you didn't desire."

With as much sarcasm as he could muster, Draco replied, "Of course you wouldn't."

"There is also the matter of Godric's Hollow," Dumbledore added.

Harry and Draco looked back and forth between each other at the mention of their first home. Looking back towards the professor, Harry asked, "What about it?"

"Well, it would seem, I thought a fitting journey to end the summer," he explained. "Going home again before continuing your search for the next Horcrux. And due to the limitations of the Fidelius Charm, none but Peter Pettigrew can reveal the location of the house to anyone who doesn't already know. Thus, neither Ms. Granger nor Mr. Weasley can journey there. Would they to be standing by your side, they would simply watch as you disappeared into nothingness."

"But how can…" Draco began. A moment later, he caught on and finished, "We have just forgotten. We must have known the secret just like our parents, or Sirius. Or—"

"Or myself," Dumbledore finished with a smile. "And amongst the three of us, we can discuss it as openly as we could Grimmauld Place."

A brief silence settled over the room before Draco stated, "Alright, I'll go with him."

Dumbledore nodded his approval and turned his head towards her just before Hermione began asking, "What about the search for the others? How is that going?"

"I have several leads on possible hiding locations for what I believe to be Helga Hufflepuff's cup. I believe by the end of the year, we will have the confirmation I am waiting for. Nagini's location is as mysterious as her master's these days. The silence of this summer has been a welcome reprieve, but I fear its end will be both great and terrifying for all those in the wizarding world. Voldemort's soul itself, I fear, shall find Harry on its own. I only pray the others are all destroyed before that time."

"And the final one, something of Gryffindor's or Ravenclaw's?" Harry asked.

"I have found nothing new out in regards to that, save my suspicious it is most likely an object associated with Rowena Ravenclaw," Dumbledore admitted. "I remain convinced the only two objects left of great worth from Godric are the Sorting Hat and sword, both of which are still safely locked up in the headmaster's office at Hogwarts, neither touched the hand of Riddle since his own sorting in first year."

As the evening wore on, Dumbledore continued to relay as much information as he had about the current situation in the world. From the utter lack of information on Voldemort and his follower's whereabouts or plans to the new defenses around Hogwarts. Hagrid's brother Gwarp now took turns guarding the front gate along with Fluffy, who had been trained to cry out an alarm should any attempt to play him to sleep as Quirrell had many years ago.

The centaurs would fight against any creature attempting to pass through the forest towards the school in exchange for a stricter enforcement of keeping students out of their borders. And all passageways out of the castle had been sealed by both practical and magical means. Somewhat comforting was the fact that between their battles at the Ministry and Hogwarts the last two years, only a handful of known Death Eaters remained at large. Draco shifted uncomfortably when the names of Bellatrix Lestrange and Narcissa Malfoy were mentioned. By the time they had finished, it was late in the evening.

"Would you care to stay the night, Professor?" Harry asked when he noticed Dumbledore beginning to nod off.

"I think that would be most pleasant Harry," he answered. "But first, I think we have time for one more story. I promised you would hear the tale of how I found and destroyed the ring of Marvolo Gaunt. If you would like, I feel as if I should honor that promise now rather than later."

All four students regained full consciousness and moved closer to the edge of their chairs. At this reaction, Dumbledore smiled and said, "I shall take that as a yes."

"The story begins with yet another of my rare, but famous mistakes. After I began to suspect Tom's knowledge and use of Horcruxes with the diary and then his return, I began my investigation almost immediately. It wasn't until a few days after my duel with him in the Ministry lobby that I came to the home of his father, searching for any magical trace that might lead me in the right direction."

"It was by chance that I caught a faint glimpse of dark magic emanating from not the House of Riddle, but their reclusive neighbors, the House of Gaunt. It appears Tom wanted the ring kept close to its ancestral abode. I was unfortunately reminded again of the sad tale of Tom's mother and her misguided attempts to find love. Regardless, not too far from the small hut, I came upon a mighty cavern. Voldemort had hidden this one far better than the cave we visited last year and once again just by chance and luck standing on our side I was able to gain entrance and claim the ring."

After a long silence, Harry exclaimed, "That's all!"

"Not too much of interest besides that. Well there was the small matter of the duel with the manticore."

"A manticore!" Hermione and Ron exclaimed in wonder.

"Yes, one of the fiercest of the chimera breeds, it seems Tom was unwilling to trust this Horcrux to any of his apprentices. I doubt any of them could have handled this beast. As dangerous as the lion's jaw is the dragon's tail and it's venomous spikes. It is that creature's sting that cost the good use of my right hand. But none ever claimed a Horcrux could be cheaply claimed. Ironically enough, with my wand hand disabled, I was forced to kill the creature with a sharp rock to the skull. It is the second time in my life I have taken a life after my final duel with Grindelwald and I believe that the muggle and wizarding way of dealing with such things are equally reprehensible."

"So then you just destroyed the ring, right?" Ron asked.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Weasley, it is not just that easy. These items have been imbued with Voldemort's soul and are tied to him in such a way that to destroy them takes a great deal of strength and power. These are some of the most powerful magical items in existence and unmaking them is in many ways nearly as difficult as making them. So I bid my time, in case my suspicions of this ring being in actuality a Horcrux came to bear fruit. I regained my strength over the next several weeks and destroyed it only when I was at the utmost of my strength. Even then the effort nearly claimed my life. I was left near death. However, through some cunning magic by Madam Pomfrey and surely one of the greatest healing elixirs ever concocted from Professor Snape, I was back on my feet in time for school to commence last year."

"But, sir," Harry questioned, "I was nearly dead myself after killing the basilisk, but I survived destroying the diary. How is that possible?"

"On this Harry, I can just offer a guess, though maybe a very good one," he answered. "But I believe when Tom attacked you and, as the prophesy says, 'marked you as his equal' he left in you a connection to himself. The sharing of minds and your speaking parseltongue are two examples we have already encountered. I think this connection also gives you a type of strength to resist the pain of destroying his Horcruxes. Though you were near death, destroying the book brought you no closer. This reason in addition to others is why this quest to defeat Voldemort must fall on your shoulders. Now, I believe I will take you up on that offer of a room for the evening, Harry. Good night, children."

Harry helped the professor to a room on the second floor just opposite the library before heading off to his own bed. He was up late considering what would happen in just two weeks time. He would return to Godric's Hollow and then on to Azkaban. And then he might find himself one step closer to ending the war with Voldemort.

When Harry woke up the next morning Dumbledore had already departed though he left instructions on how to reach Godric's Hollow for them. Not that anyone besides Harry and Draco saw more than a blank piece of paper. The smell of fresh simmering bacon called him to the kitchen where, standing next to a dreary-eyed Ron, he found a most welcome sight.

"Ginny!" he yelled as he picked her up and kissed her with a bit more enthusiasm than Ron would have preferred. His choking noises earned a slap on the arm from Ginny once Harry set her down.

"You know Ron, I was going to pass on a message for you from Luna, but you can just forget about it now," she said. Ginny flipped her wand and the bacon turned itself over on the pan. "Thank heavens, you aren't as tough on underage magic as Mum."

Harry sat down next to Ron and smiled as he heard Ron muttered to himself for a moment before demanding, "So tell me already."

"Well, are you going to keep annoying me about having the _sheer audacity_ to kiss my own boyfriend?"

"Have you been a bad weasel?" Draco asked as he entered the kitchen in shorts and a t-shirt, scratching his disheveled hair.

"My, oh my, look who's becoming more like Harry everyday," Ginny remarked.

"Only before breakfast," he replied and grabbing a plate, took some eggs and bacon directly from the pan.

Ginny turned to see what he was doing and chastised him, "Those aren't done yet!"

"They're close enough. I've lived with Granger and Harry's cooking for two weeks. I learned not to be too picky," he said and glanced up from his plate. "And don't give me that look, you remind me of your mother."

"What's wrong with our mother!" Ron yelled.

Draco grinned and without looking up from his plate said, "Nothing, I just don't want to see her glaring menacingly at me first thing before I even eat."

"True enough," Ron said as he reached over and stole a piece of bacon off of Draco's plate. Harry couldn't hear when Ginny leaned close to Ron's ear, apparently to deliver Luna's message. As Ron's cheeks began to flush, Harry laughed to himself and went up to get his own breakfast.

Ginny looked up at him and then back to Draco, "You're a damned bad influence on him."

The final two weeks of summer vacation were spent finishing the cleaning of Grimmauld Place. When Hermione came walking down the stairs with her hair especially disheveled after banishing a ghoul in a fourth floor closet, she declared the job complete. Seeing as it was the Thursday before the Hogwarts train would be leaving, Ron declared, "Well that was a right waste of a summer."

Their finest hour came that night when Draco was able to cast a near permanent silencing charm on the portrait of Sirius' pureblood fanatic of a mother, Walburga. Even with the charm, Harry insisted they keep the shade drawn over it. Otherwise, she would bounce around in her frame so furiously when anyone, especially Hermione, passed by that chunks of plaster would fall from the ceiling. Despite unpleasant things like this, Harry still thought it was a very good couple of weeks.

Ginny moved into the room she had shared with Hermione two summers past and stayed with them the entire time. They all returned to Diagon Alley on Friday and completed everyone's school shopping. Ron continued to stay in his five NEWT-level classes in hopes of joining Harry as an Auror someday. Ginny would be taking the same five courses, as well as Astronomy. Hermione maintained all seven of her NEWT-level classes.

That night, Harry ended up asleep on the couch next to Ginny. She couldn't sleep in her room, she claimed, since Hermione would be up all night reading her textbooks. Harry kept her company until they both fell asleep. That night Harry felt something trying to break into his mind, but fought it off without needing to wake up.

The next morning Draco and Harry brought down their trunks and the cages for Hedwig and Nicodemus. Dressed in muggle clothing, Harry looked over the directions once again to reach Godric's Hollow while Draco shrunk a couple pairs of robes for later and placed them in his pocket. They would floo to a tavern located at Swansea in the south of Wales then follow Dumbledore's directions to walk and a little over an hour later they would be there. Not long after them, the rest of the house woke up to accompany them on this first leg of their day.

"Well, I suppose we should be off," Harry decided. Receiving nods of approval from the others, Harry grabbed a hand-full of floo powder and threw it into the fireplace, yelling, "Knab Rock Pub!"

Harry stepped into the green flame and exited in a dark tavern. The windows were shuttered and a very short hairy man with a long beard was standing on top of the bar. Simply nodding and returning his attention to his work, Harry assumed this was a fairly popular floo point for the city, so it wasn't a disturbance for people to be dropping in outside of their normal hours. As Harry began cleaning off his jeans and shirt, Ron, Hermione, Ginny and finally Draco joined him.

Taking the directions out of his pocket and looking them over again, Harry led the group out onto a quiet street in a very muggle-filled area of town. People were spending their weekend stopping in small, quaint shops and looking at the knick-knacks. Of course, none of them approached the seedy-looking tavern. An elderly woman shook her head in disdain at four teenagers walking out of the pub first thing in the morning. Harry turned left and headed off westerly. After twenty minutes, they had passed out of the main city. Two turns and fifteen minutes later they were walking along a long abandoned road. Just an hour into their journey, they came upon the village of Godric's Hollow.

Surprisingly, this village was made up entirely of muggles. The few wizarding families that had inhabited the area moved away after the fall of Voldemort. The village was considered haunted not just by muggles, but fearful wizards all across England. The four-dozen homes all sat in a quiet valley with several basic shops running along a main street. There could be seen, however, four homes built on a raised hill overlooking the others. Of course, when Harry and Draco looked at the hill, two of the houses were much farther apart and separated by a fifth large two-story building.

"It's like… I remember seeing it in a dream," Harry whispered.

Walking into the valley, the inhabitants of Godric's Hollow seemed pleasant and good-hearted. Many a visitor had complimented on how lovely everyone from this village was. To which they received an almost standard response, "Well, never had a reason to treat anyone unpleasant. Just common courtesy."

Were anyone to look into the history of the village they would realize it was a most excellent place to live and raise a family and had been for nearly a thousand years.

Before heading up the hill to his home, Harry turned left off of the road and pushed open the gate of a cemetery. Most of the graves had fresh flowers and clean gravestones. There were two near the back that had become overgrown with weeds. Draco sat down and began cleaning off the headstone on the right, tears stinging his eyes. Harry knelt next to him and cleaned of the other. Soon they were holding hands and looking on the final resting place of James and Lily Potter. While Harry struggled to keep down tears that would not be restrained, he saw Draco watching the markers with a far-away look that would normally be associated with Luna Lovegood.

A half hour later, Harry neared the top of the hill when he noticed Draco was no longer trailing behind him, but had come even with his pace. Pausing across the street, Harry turned back and said, "I suppose it's just the two of us from here on out."

Ron hugged his best friend and shook Draco's hand and Ginny kissed Harry on the cheek. Hermione wiped tears from her eyes and said, "Take care of yourselves. Remember that if you can't get back to Grimmauld Place by nine in the morning, we'll meet you on the train with your trunks."

"Don't forget the owls, Granger."

Rather than retorting, Hermione smiled at him and took Ginny's hand. Waving good-bye the two of them disappeared with a slight _pop_. A louder _crack_ sounded, announcing Ron had followed them. Turning around, they walked side-by-side across the street. A fine waist-high steel gate opened into the front yard with a stone path leading towards a simple front door. Just inside the gate on either side of the path was a pair of Scots pine trees. Walking across the clean cut lawn a pair of holly shrubs grew on either side of the path up to the front porch. Leaning against the front door was a letter. Harry recognized the messy script immediately and reached for it.

_Dear Harry and Draco,_

_We stopped by this summer and fixed everything up nice for you. It's a late birthday present for you both from the whole of the Order. We'll see you soon. Take care of yourselves until then._

_Your friend,_ _Hagrid_

Putting the letter in his pocket, Harry noted that the house actually seemed quite small next to the large yard and its two mighty pines. He thought this was where two over-excitable boys would wear their parents out. James would teach them to ride their first brooms in this yard and Lily would yell at him for letting them go too high and too fast.

Opening the front door, it was as if they had stepped back into their memories. The room was set up exactly the same as it had been sixteen years ago. And now they were here again and touching things in reality. The Potter boys were home. The only thing missing was an over-anxious young man tapping his bare feet and a beautiful woman in a nightgown teaching them to paint.

Harry walked off to the right and found a formal dining room that he had never seen before. It struck him odd that they never revisited memories in the photo album to see what else there was. He had previously only seen five rooms in the entire house. On the walls of this room two family photos: a moving picture of his father and his parents at a park and a muggle picture of Lily, her sister and parents at a beach, all of which he cautiously shrunk and placed safely in his pocket.

Also on the ground floor Harry found a guest bedroom and bath. The kitchen no longer had the broom closet Draco had been hidden in as a baby, but still present were the pictures and drawings on the fridge. Harry ran his fingers over the crinkled old paper and read, "_The brilliant Harry and the beautiful Draco_."

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Harry put most of the items in a Weasley Indestructible Waterproof Wonderbag and went back to the living room and started up towards the room he knew Draco would be in.

"Hi," Harry said, walking into the babies' room. Draco was sitting in the far corner under the window staring at the spot where only weeks ago they watched her die.

"They didn't fix everything," Draco announced. Unlike all the other preserved and restored rooms, this particular room had been stripped clean. The carpet was replaced by floorboards and the wallpaper now was a plain white coat of paint.

"I guess they thought we wouldn't want to think about—"

"What happened here? As I recall, forgetting things didn't work out so well for us last time around. I don't think I'll be forgetting it again until the day I die."

Harry sat down on the floor in the corner and watching his brother and getting lost in his thoughts. Hours dragged on as he considered things and thought over how their lives had gone since the night Tom Riddle came into this room and how things would have or should have gone. Harry finally came to a deep realization and stood up.

"This isn't home anymore and it never can be again. No amount of wishing will change it. This home died with them. Some things are beyond even magic."

"Some wounds can't be fixed," Draco said solemnly and he rose. "Besides it isn't as if you could move in here someday. You'd be a right pain in the arse without Ginny around."

"Ready to leave?" Harry asked as he opened the door.

Draco walked across the room, pausing only briefly over where Lily's body fell, and strode out saying, "Right, let's go somewhere less depressing. How about Azkaban?"

Taking one final moment, Harry followed his brother, walking out into the hallway and closing the door of the nursery at Godric's Hollow.

The door would never be opened again from then until the end of days.

_A/N: First off thanks for all the reviews so far this week. You've all managed to double my total and I've been thrilled about the increase and hope it keeps improving. I especially want to thank the multiple reviewers: Rachel and luckei1. I hope nobody minds the slower pacing too much, there was just a LOT of character stuff I needed to get through before we return to Hogwarts. Things are definitely going to pick up next chapter. I think we've established every character's place and for a few chapters we will become a bit more plot-driven. Once again I do not own Harry Potter. Please keep the reviews coming. From now on, I'm going to try and reply with at least a thank you to all of them and those I have replied to so far, know I love to talk about the story and even pepper little hints. Talking to me about this story is the easiest and surest way to keep me on task and churning out the chapters._


	10. The Prisoners of Azkaban

**CHAPTER NINE: The Prisoners of Azkaban**

The actual location of the island of Azkaban prison has been Unplottable since its inception nearly 500 years ago, as has it's the corresponding port of harbor. Even the most knowledgeable wizards in the world, including Albus Dumbledore, know its location simply as, somewhere in the north of the North Sea. The specific location is actually no longer known by any living soul not even the Auror guardians. For more than four centuries, the only person who might have been able to find the island was Sirius Black, who escaped the prison on foot and made his own way back to England.

The actual process of getting there is known by several high-ranking Ministry and Wizengamot members, but still remains a closely guarded secret. The first steps for Harry and Draco included an apparation trip from Godric's Hollow to just outside a phone booth in northwestern London. Taking the phone booth down to the lobby of the Ministry of Magic, they encountered Minister Scrimgeor and only a few photographers. Harry gritted his teeth and considered that if Dumbledore could risk death to get a Horcrux, then he could put up with the Minister and his spin machine for 15 minutes.

"Sir, we really should be going," Harry announced.

The short delay with Scrimgeor had evolved into a three-hour question and answer session with five reporters on the best of terms with the Ministry, including Rita Skeeter. She had been leading the charge to discover the truth behind Draco "Potter" and that had been the point of most of her questions so far today. It was certainly no longer a secret and a severe lack of facts did nothing to stop it being on the last dozen _Prophet _covers. The idea of a second Potter who might be more reasonable than Harry intrigued the administration, who had obviously never met Draco before.

"Why did you choose to change your name on your last journey here? How long have you been ashamed to be a Malfoy? Are recently rediscovered documents that claim you are the son of James and Lily Potter accurate? Can you explain how they magically appeared in Ministry files after nearly 20 years? Which family do you prefer? What is your exact relationship with Harry Potter? Do you make any claim to the title of 'the Chosen One'?"

Draco had taken the position that Harry himself had wished he had adopted with Rita years ago. The young man sat there and attempted to bore two holes through the reporter's forehead. He remained simply sitting there and offering no verbal or nonverbal response to any of the questions no matter how disgustingly inappropriate.. Draco sat there with an impassive expression on his face that reminded Harry of the Malfoy days. No matter what type of emotional blubbering Potter he was becoming, Draco would not give _this_ woman the satisfaction of a reaction. Harry had grown tired of this mockery two hours ago and repeated, "Minister Scrimgeor, I'm sure you remember we still have a long journey ahead of us, so…"

"Of course, Mr. Potter," an obviously disappointed Scrimgeor muttered. Excusing the group, he led them to Basement Level Two and down the hall past the desks full of Aurors and into Robards' office. On the way, Harry noticed Shakelbolt's desk was perfectly cleared off, as if he had not been there in months. Draco remembered he had mentioned something about the wedding about being forced to guard the Muggle Minister. It was widely regarded by the Order as a ploy to keep him out of the loop. Luckily, Harry noticed a sly nod from Tonks just before entering the office.

Harry and Draco quickly changed into their wizarding robes, anxious for the journey to begin. The taller man walked to his bookshelf and handed Harry an old tattered copy of _Defensive Magic Tactics of the 12 Century_. When both young men were holding it, he announced, "_Delego Azkaban_."

The feeling of a hook behind his navel overtook Harry as he was swept into the portkey. They arrived in a room with no windows or doors. A single elderly witch sat in a rocking chair beside a roaring fire. She smiled at the boys and explained, "Welcome to the way-point, Mr. Potter and… Mr. Potter. I'm Broomhilda Frickey and unless you want your stay at Azkaban Prison to become permanent, you'll follow my instructions to the letter. Nobody in the world knows where we are right now. All you need to know is that this fireplace is the only one in the world that connects to a very particular and special small boathouse."

Harry glanced down at the fire, while she continued, "Both the dockyards and island itself are Unplottable. Even the prisoners and guards have no idea where exactly in the world they are. It will be a three-hour boat ride to Azkaban Island. All wands must be checked in at the dock station. Under no circumstances may a wand be brought up to the main prison building itself. You will follow your guide exactly. Leatchers have been installed since the Dementors left us."

"What's a leatcher?" Harry asked.

"As I was saying… leatchers are small crystal devices that hang from most of the hallways of the prison and routinely siphon off magic from those in close proximity. It stops the prisoners from building up any strength to summon anything or apparate away. In addition there are apparation wards covering every millimeter of the entire island. You will be taking to a private audience chamber to speak with one Mundungus Fletcher. You will have one hour with him before you will be escorted back to the mainland with a return time of midnight. For your own protection we will deviate from this schedule for no reason. Understand?"

Both boys nodded as Frickey grabbed her cane and stood up. She walked to the fire and threw in the floo powder. Without naming a destination, she stuck her head in and announced the two incoming travelers. Harry stepped through first and found he nearly tripped out into a small room with four chairs around the fire. A pair of fierce-looking Aurors quickly grabbed him roughly and pulled him to his feet just before Draco came through. Without a word they led the boys outside.

The hilly countryside reminded Harry of the area around the cave with the fake locket. He also noted that the sun seemed to be in the same place in the sky. It wouldn't surprise him at all if there were somewhere along the coast of Scotland. Harry motioned upward towards the sun to Draco. He just nodded that he had seen it as well and followed their wordless companions down a dirt path. Tied to a small dock was a single rowboat with another Auror, a mid-sized and round faced man in his late-30s. There was no need for explanation as Harry and Draco took their seats and the silent Auror waved his wand. The oars began rowing on their own, pushing them away from shore at a slow, but steady pace.

As the trip continued, Harry and Draco sat there without exchanging a single word. A few times Draco looked over to his brother and cursed how good they had become at reading each other. Both might have been incredibly nervous, but neither wanted to convey that to the other. Draco's right hand never went far away from the pocket that held his wand. Trying to calm himself, Harry thought about what a perfectly lovely day it had been. For all the tears, morose thoughts and fear, he thought it should have been raining since daybreak. But the sun set in the western sky to their left with nary a cloud in the sky all day. Sure enough, the Ministry kept to their timetable precisely. Exactly three hours after departure, a great brick building began to rise out of the horizon.

Azkaban Island itself was the size of several Quidditch stadiums. The only places not covered by the long flat building were the docks and a cemetery on a hill. On the eastern edge of the island and large tower rose out of lower complex. When they were closer, Harry could make out the lights of a few fires in the tower that held the administrative offices for the complex. The island was every bit as desolate and lifeless as they had imagined it. Many a dark wizard, many a cruel and abhorrent person had wasted away and died here. And while the smell might not indicate it _too much_, the island was a home of pain and death and rotting away. This was no place for a soul to reside. The boat hit the side of the dock roughly jarring them from their evaluation of the island.

"Step off, report to the master at arms," the boat driver ordered curtly.

Stepping from the rocking boat, Harry could have sworn he heard thunder in the distance. At the end of the long narrow dock was a small tollbooth with a scruffy middle-aged wizard sitting in it. The dock was at the lowest part of the island and a 50-meter cliff rose up just behind it with just a single rocky path twisting along to the right. From nearly the top of the cliff, a putrid smell was emanating from a drainage pipe that emptied into the sea. A long scar was visible on the guard's neck as if someone had tried to slice him open from ear to ear, but the head apparently refused to depart.. Both the smell and the appearance of the guard only reinforced the strong desire for one to not be in this place, to run away and to never return.

Coughing, he demanded, "State your name and purpose."

"Harry and Draco Potter, here, to speak with a prisoner, Mundungus Fletcher, with the permission of the Minister for Magic," he answered. The master at arms looked carefully at a logbook. Draco remained silent, but noted that it only had a single appointment listed in it. Taking longer than necessary, the guard tapped the names in his book before he looked back up at them. Harry covered his mouth at the stench from the sewer water running down the cliff not too far away.

Extending his left hand and keeping his right out of site under their view, the guard ordered, "Surrender your wands for the duration of your stay."

First Harry and then more reluctantly Draco placed their wands in the out-stretched hand and watched as he placed them in a metal safe behind him. There were only a dozen wands in there. If there were no other guests and no wands allowed inside that meant the whole lot of captured dark and criminal wizards in England were being watched over by the leatchers and 11 or 12 unarmed wizards and witches. Harry began to feel more of the nervous tension Draco was radiating.

A tall witch with dark purple eyes came out from behind the shack and said in a gentle, but insistent voice, "Gentlemen, please follow me and do not stray."

She led the way up the winding path. It seemed as if it encircled the outer edge of more than half the island before sharply cutting up past the graveyard filled with dozens of nameless grave markers. At the end of the graveyard they came upon a large metal door cut out of the stone walls of the prison. Taking a key out of her robes, the witch opened the great door and led them inside. There was nothing beside bare rock walls along every corridor. After about fifteen minutes, Harry realized the prison must be enchanted to appear smaller than it really is. Though their pace never broke in the slightest, he suspected they would forever be lost along the many twists and turns and identical stone passageways without their companion. How anyone could learn these passageways in less than a lifetime seemed unbelievable.

Finally, she opened another door and motioned for them to enter. A single wooden table was set in the middle of the bare room with two chairs on this side and a single stool on the opposite. Another door with a small barred window was against the opposite wall and a small grate that smelled like the wretched sewers was on floor in the far corner. The witch closed the door beside them and said, "I will be returning for you in one hour and then we have to get you back to the dock for the return journey."

After five minutes, Draco stood up from his chair and went to the other door, looking down into opening. What he saw frightened Draco and sent a chill down his spine he hadn't felt since the night in the Astronomy Tower. So disturbing was this image that his breath caught in his throat and froze. Harry heard his gasp and walked over to join him. Standing next to him, Harry caught himself, "How… how can they do that to… to anyone?"

They could hear screams in the distance. On either side of the hallway on the other side of the door were cells with thick metal bars and hanging from the ceiling in front of every two cells were small crystal balls with small blue fires burning inside of them. Every few seconds a stream of dark smoke would rise out of one of the cells and float into the leatcher. Harry leaned closer and a sensation of great cold and darkness overtook him. It seemed as if part of him was torn away and he staggered, falling back onto the ground. Draco lifted him up as a thin line of dark smoke floated from his chest and through the bars and then into the leatcher.

"What did it do?" he heard Draco ask.

Shaking his head clear, Harry answered, "It wasn't like a dementor. I wasn't in any memory. My memory, my soul, my… my magic was ripped out of me."

"Sit down," Draco insisted, pulling him back to his seat.

After ten more minutes, Harry started to breath easier, but he still felt a great deal weaker. The he realized that since he had been sitting, every prisoner had gone through it dozens more times. Then without warning the door opened and another overbearing and angry-looking Auror entered, dragging before him a squat man with short legs. Unlike the last time Harry had met him, he now had a long, unkempt beard and was noticeably thinner. His bloodshot and baggy eyes had only grown more prominent. The Auror set him on the stool and left. Harry noted that when the leatcher tried to steal magic from the guard a faint golden glow surrounded and protected him. Turning his attention back to the prisoner, Harry greeting him, "Hello, Dung."

Without looking up, Mundungus muttered, "Wo're you?"

"You know me, Dung. Look at me and think about it."

The lowered head rolled backward and his hazed eyes focused slightly, "Zat 'Arry? Tell Molly I don't smoke no more, no sir."

"We will Dung," Harry leaned forward. Last time they met he had been furious over the older man stealing the few things left of Sirius'. His outrage only grew when Dumbledore told him one of them might be a Horcrux. But sitting here in front of him now and seeing him so defeated and feeling only a small bit of the pain that was a constant for Fletcher, Harry felt an enormous amount of pity for him.

"We need… Dung! We need to talk to you about Sirius' house," Harry explained. At this Mundungus began weeping into his hands and his entire body shook.

Looking up with his dirty face now streaked with tears, Mundungus said, "I'm sorry, 'Arry. I never… wanted to… it was just a bit to get by and I only… I only took things of his family that Sirius hated. Nothin' he'd want you to have. Just things from the Blacks. Stuff Kreacher had hidden away. I… I… n—n—never would… taken…"

As he devolved in sobs, Harry reached across the table and touched his shoulder gently. Mundungus looked up, sniffled and wiped at his tears. In a stronger voice, he said, "He was the only one who liked me, Sirius was. The rest o' them didn't think me no better than the dirt I am. But Sirius… 'e'd forgive a man anything. He… he was me only friend."

Harry smiled at him and sat back down. Mundungus snorted and continued, "When I… I took those things I wasn't thinkin' bout you or Sirius. Just taken something to get a bit o' coin and maybe a thing or two for myself… to remember 'im by."

Realizing the truth in his answer, Harry admitted, "I know, Dung. I know you loved him. This is my brother, Draco. Sirius was his godfather, too. We both know you cared for him. He liked you, too."

Mundungus looked up at Draco for the first time, who offered a weak smile as well. Clearing his throat, the auburn-haired Potter spoke for the first time, saying, "There is one thing missing from the house we need to find. It's important for the Order. A large golden locket about this big, do you know the one?"

After several silent moments that stretched on for an eternity, Harry shifted as Mundungus and Draco sat motionless. His brother's had was outstretched indicating the size of the locket and Harry realized that Dumbledore must have trusted Draco enough to take him into the same pensieve memories to actually see the Horcrux before bringing him to the Dursleys.

Finally, the older man nodded and cleared his throat, "Aye, it was hidden in Kreacher's bed under some rags."

"Good man, Dung," Harry said. "Did you sell it or hide it?"

"It's… at Borgin and Burkes, but they didn't see it. Don't know what it is. I sold a whole load of things bulk to some stock boy. Said Borgin was busy and took it with 'im down into the basement."

_If they didn't notice it_, Harry thought, _it might still be there_.

Dumbledore had told them that Lupin led a group of Order members there the night after the attack on Hogwarts. It had been abandoned by then and was boarded up ever since. Smiling, Harry turned his attention back to Mundungus and the older man started to return the grin.

"Is there anything we can do to help you, Dung?"

Tears threatened his eyes again as he replied, "Not now 'Arry. After what I done to you and Sirius, the Order done turned their backs on me."

"Well we haven't," Harry declared. "We'll talk to Dumbledore and Scrimgeor and we'll find a way to get you out of here. I promise. No matter what, we'll find away. We care. Sirius did and so will we."

Draco stood up like a bolt and Harry stared at him, unsure of the reason for this reaction. Following the path of his eyes Harry saw the bars on the door behind Fletcher. They were rattling.

"Stay down Dung," Harry said and walked towards the door cautiously.

Looking through the portal, he saw all the cell bars were shaking with increased violence, as were the leatchers. Suddenly a rapid succession of crashes worked their way closer. Looking at the ceiling, Harry saw the last of the leatchers shatter and piles of wands appeared in the corridors. Harry's mouth dropped open when the bars of every cell disappeared. A second later dozens of summoning spells were shouted and wands went flying into the cells as the wizards and witches in them stepped forward.

Draco threw Harry out of sight and to the floor before anyone saw them. Crawling quickly across the floor, he tried to stay low and out of sight. Upon reaching the door they had entered through, Draco began muttering any number of opening charms on the other door but it would not budge. There was obviously no bit of magic he could do to pry the door open without his wand.

Horrifying screams began bellowing from the corridors and Harry reached up as his scar burned hotly. Voldemort had done this. He knew it. Mundungus had by now fallen to the ground beside Harry. When Draco heard his brother muttering something, he crawled towards him and heard, "He did it. He actually did it."

"Who?" Mundungus asked. "Iz it He-Who---Who-Must-Not-Be-Named?"

Harry nodded and whispered under another great scream from down the hall, "No more prisoners in Azkaban."

Harry knew they had to move quickly. They were defenseless with who knows how many murderers running free. Pushing Draco out of the way, he grabbed the bars of the sewer grate and began pulling. The smell coming up into his face turned his stomach over again and again. Soon Draco was beside him pulling as well.

"On three," Harry instructed.

Draco nodded and on count they pulled until their arms were ready to shatter, but the grate gave and came loose with a great screeching. Grabbing Mundungus, Harry threw the two of them into the tunnel as he heard a shouted unlocking charm. He hit the ground first and Mundungus crashed on top of him, burying him in the sewer water and forcing a mouthful down into his stomach. Harry rolled out of the way as Draco fell in the same spot, but managed to land feet first.

The first thing they had to do was run, to get as far away from that opening as possible. The water was still nearly waist high and Harry despite the fear and adrenaline and need to escape, he couldn't be delayed from throwing up the heavy lump in his stomach anymore. As he retched the foul gunk back up, a strong hand grabbed his back and pulled him away from the light of the grate and into the darkness. After a minute of trudging forward, Draco's hand released Harry and leaned him back against the wall. Mundungus was slumped next to him and barely appeared conscious.

He looked across the tunnel at Draco who was trying to muffle his own coughing at their new surroundings. The smell was the most _foul _thing Draco had ever experienced; unable to imagine how he had given the title before to anything less repugnant.

They couldn't have been there for more than five minutes when Draco caught his breath and spoke up, "I pulled the grate behind me. It must have gone back in place or they'd have found us out."

"How… how many Death Eaters are imprisoned here again?" Mundungus asked.

"From the Battle at Hogwarts," Draco listed, "there's Fenrir Greyback, the werewolf, Alecto and Amycus Carrow, Travers, the older Crabbe and Goyle, and the large one, Yaxley and a couple of newer ones, I think they were called Mortimer and Gladflat. And there are all the ones who aren't Death Eaters here, the simple criminals, and they're all, every one of them, in Voldemort's debt now."

"A year earlier at the Department of Mysteries," Harry continued, "we caught Antonin Dolohov, Jugson, Avery Brooks, Sr., John Mulciber, Augustus Rookwook, Cringsley Nott, the two male Lestranges, the axe-man MacNair and Lucius Malfoy."

At the last name, Harry looked over at Draco, who seemed to pale even further. A confrontation with his former-father and kidnapper was something the young man was not nearly prepared for. How do you face the man you worshipped for years and now curse for hurting the parents you never knew? Standing forward off the wall, Harry coughed and tried to take a calming breath only to have his lungs burn in protest of the smells.

Mundungus leaned on his shoulder and whispered, "So… so they're all up dere. Wit wands and powers killing guards and… 'ave we a plan 'Arry?"

Harry closed his eyes tightly and said, "If we find our way to that grate over the boatyard on the eastern end we could… maybe we could summon our wands and then try to apparate away."

"I thought of that first thing while I was pushing you in the corridor. I tried," Draco argued. "The apparation wards are still up, thought that would hurt the escapees... they must be… of course. Lucius and some of the others can create portkeys."

"If you had your wand could you?" Harry asked.

Draco slowly shook his head and Harry continued, "Then we jump. Try and get far enough away from the island to apparate away."

"Before we hit the rocky shore and die?" Draco drawled.

Harry actually forced a bit of a smile and retorted, "Unless you have a better idea."

Draco simply extended his arm down the corridor for Harry to lead the way. He supposed this was the type of insane and impossible situation "Saint Potter" walked through with ease on a daily basis. He just hoped that he would come out the other end as alive and in one piece as Ron or Hermione managed to do. Holding his hand over his mouth, Harry led the way down the tunnel when he came to a turn he guessed randomly and went off to the left.

Every so often, they would walk under another grate and hear screams or maniacal, bone-chilling laughter. After five hours of searching and backtracking, the sounds above them grew quieter. Apparently most of the criminals and Death Eaters had finished their rout and moved on to new horizons.

Harry looked up and said, "If we can't get our bearings we could just be going in circles until we starve to death."

After another hour of walking, they heard almost no noise at all from above them. A low-sitting gate was just a short ways ahead of them. If Harry were to stand on Draco's shoulder he could reach it, perhaps get out and find an idea of which way to go. If most of the Death Eaters and other criminals really had left by now it should be safe enough.

Harry explained his plan to the others and though Draco didn't appreciate holding up a dripping and disgusting Potter over his head, he consented. After the boy climbed onto Draco's back, Mundungus helped Harry balance and stand up straight. With three strong pushes, he forced the grate out of place and pulled himself up thanks to a strong and firm shove from below. Once up, Harry could breathe a bit deeper and easier without gagging. A soft sound was becoming more prominent. It almost seemed, as Harry crawled along the hall, to be… crying.

Edging his way quietly towards a corner in the hallway, Harry heard, "No more… please, sah, Aye can't… no… no…"

Glancing quickly around the corner, Harry saw a single tall wizard standing over a quivering form. Soon Harry recognized the smaller creature as Stan Shunpike, apparently being tortured by a Death Eater. The deep cruel voice shouted, "This is what servants of the Dark Lord are really like you pitiful excuse for a wizard! _Crucio_."

As Stan's frail form quivered on the ground and screamed, Harry's bones chilled. Taking a deep breath, Harry focused his resolve and yelled, "_Accio wand!_"

In a heartbeat the torturer was disarmed and his wand flew into Harry's waiting hand. As the far larger man ran at him, Harry quickly cast again, "_Petrificus Totalus!_"

The Death Eater continued to fly forward but his raging expression grew stiff and he fell face first to the ground. Harry grabbed Stan by the arm and lifted him back around the corner. "Hang on Stan," Harry said. "I've got you."

"Who's dat? Neville?"

"Sure," Harry said with a smile. Taking Stan's arm he lowered and dropped him into the sewer. A pair of annoyed cries came back up at him.

"Wha' the bloody 'ell is that smell?" Stan whined.

"Who the bloody hell is this burk?" Draco demanded.

Looking into the sewer, Harry announced, "This is Stan. He'll be joining us."

"Fabulous," Draco replied. "Any other visitors joining us? How long until tea time?"

"Well, well," came a voice from the end of the hallway. "Just when a day can't get any better. Harry Potter."

Looking up, Harry saw in the distance a half-dozen Death Eaters led by Dolohov and Greyback. Sneering they raised their wands toward Harry, who without a thought dove backwards down into the sewers as several red and orange spells went zipping past where he had stood an instant earlier. Harry landed in Draco and Mundungus' arms and raising his wand back up towards the ceiling above, shouted, "_Reducto!_"

The hallway ceiling collapsed down on the sewer opening and large chunks of rocks came falling into the sewers. All four of the escapees dove out of the way and into the sewer muck. Harry was the first one up and saw that he had managed to block the opening to the sewer, but this would give them seconds at most. Holding the recovered wand in his hand, Harry quickly cast the Four-Point Spell and after an instant of wavering, the wand bolted off to the left.

Harry helped Draco support Stan as they trudged quickly off forward, towards the east end of the island. Just as they rounded a corner, a great explosion sounded behind them. Harry pulled them faster making quick turns left, left, right, left, right, right and right again. Harry cast the spell again and found he was heading east once more. Draco leaned across Stan as they took a minute to catch their breath and whispered, "The smell down here will keep Fenrir off our trail for a bit, but we have to hurry."

"Right, we're headed east now, let's just see how far we can take this path," Harry replied. They walked forward down the long thin path, ignoring any turns. The walls grew closer and the level of the thick water raised to Harry's mid-chest. Just before the water grew above Stan's neck, it quickly lowered and the walls grew even wider than before. Harry came to another intersection of tunnels and went to continue forward when Draco pulled them to a stop. He had caught the first glimpse of hope in several hours.

"Look at the water," he said. Sure enough now that the water was lower they noticed that it was flowing down the tunnel to the right. Nearly running now Harry led them down the corridor and three turns later; he literally saw the light at the end of the tunnel. A faint glimmer of starlight was reaching in through the grate at the end. Harry and Draco ran forward as Mundungus followed slowly supporting Stan. When they reached the end both extended their arms and summoned their wands and with a crash the metal lockbox flew up into Draco's outstretched hand. Harry tapped the lock with his stolen wand and said, "_Alohomora_."

He quickly removed the two wands he wanted and Draco dropped the case and stepped back. Handing Mundungus the old wand, Harry raised his at the grate and shouted, "_Evanescoe!_"

Sure enough the grate faded into nothingness. Walking close to the edge, Harry peered over at waves crashing on the rocky shore. Despite how far they had come, death was just as likely as it had been when they first entered the prison sewers hours and hours ago. If they failed to pass beyond the apparation wards, they would not survive the leap. It was no longer within their control to survive. Fate would determine the last challenge of the night.

Harry froze as he heard voices from farther down the tunnel. The Death Eaters were almost upon them, so _Fate _quickly became the preferred choice.

"Are you strong enough to go it alone, Dung?" Harry asked as he grabbed Stan by the hand.

"Aye don't think… Them leatchers did a number on me."

"Draco, take him Side-Along. Aim for just outside the Hog's Head in Hogsmeade. And… and don't die."

Forgetting their dire situation for an instant, Draco gathered the necessary cheek to flash Harry a shit-eating grin. All four crowded near the ledge and breathed deeply. Harry wrapped his arm around Stan and stepped forward once more.

A great scream came from behind Harry, but without turning he leapt and pulled Stan along with him. Looking only downward Harry concentrated on his destination and tried to pull them there without success. He tried to forget the violent and horrible death he was racing towards. He wanted to push everything out of his mind except the dirty old bar. _The bar… the bar… the bar…_

Time seemed to slow substantially as the ground grew closer. But still it was rushing up at them, now only 15 meters away… 10… 5… 2…

All sensation of falling was gone and Harry was standing perfectly still on his feet on a familiar street. Exhausted he fell against the same lamppost Dumbledore had lent against just two months previously. Stan sat on the cobblestone street breathing heavily. Harry's eyes bolted open and he realized they were the only two people on the street. Standing quickly in panic, Harry turned only to have Draco pop into existence and Mundungus trip forward into his arms. Breathing a long sigh of relief, Harry set the older man down next to Stan.

Finally safe, Harry looked up and saw a new day had already dawned. The sun was up in the east and it would soon start its climb over the lake and Hogwarts. Harry came out of his thoughts when he heard Draco casting a moderate-level healing charm on himself. He looked and saw a long gash on his brother's leg mend itself, not even leaving a scar behind.

"Sorry for being late and all," Draco explained. "Apparently Fenrir only wanted to wound me. We all know how he prefers… fresh kills."

Trying to improve the mood, Harry retorted, "I assumed you just needed to make a big special entrance."

Draco smiled and without raising his eyes spoke in a low voice, "We have to get the Hor—the locket out of there before any Death Eaters drop in. This only keeps working as long as Voldemort doesn't know we're onto his secret."

Realizing the truth of it, Harry asked, "Dung, can you get Stan to Hogwarts and let Dumbledore know what happened?"

"Yeah, 'Arry. Reckon I owe you one or two or fitty for last night."

"Remember straight to Dumbledore, he'll believe you as long as you stick to the truth," Harry explained. "Tell him Draco and I plan to arrive on the train still and don't mention the locket to _anyone _except him, understood?"

Mundungus wiped the grime off of his face and nodded. Helping Stan to his feet, they started north towards High Street and the road to Hogwarts. Harry stood and helped Draco to his feet.

"So do you have a plan, Draco?"

"What do I look like, Granger?" Draco asked.

Harry smiled at the joke, but a moment later his brother continued, "We apparate to Knockturn Alley as close to the back end of it as we can manage. I know a back door into Borgin and Burkes that Lucius told me about. Hopefully the streets will be mostly deserted at this hour. Unless of course some of the escaped Death Eaters rallied there."

"Alright, we get in and find it before anyone discovers us and we apparate directly to either Grimmauld Place or King's Cross," Harry finished. Glancing at his watch, he added, "We have just over three hours until the train leaves."

And with a pair of completely identical _pops_, the street outside the Hog's Head was once again deserted by the time the grey-haired bartender carried out the trash and prepared to open for the day. Harry landed near the top of a flight of stairs in Knockturn Alley just east of Borgin and Burkes. As he tumbled loudly down the stairs, Harry realized he should have been more specific. The farthest into the alley he had ever been was in second year when he flooed in by mistake. The deepest image he had in his mind was the top of the stairs he had just descended.

He was rubbing what would soon be a nasty bump on his head, when he saw Draco standing over him. Shaking his head disapprovingly, Draco offered him a hand and pulled his brother up. Apparently, Draco had been farther into the alley than he had and Harry realized he should have just had Draco pull him Side-along. He followed his brother's quick pace north. Nervously, their eyes shot back and forth amongst the shops on either side of the narrow street. They only had a few minutes until the stores opened for the day and at any moment they could be discovered. Just before Harry was about to whisper and ask how much farther, Draco cut off into a side alley running back northeast behind the shops and a high brick wall.

The passageway was just large enough for a single person to squeeze through at a time and allowed almost no light in. But neither was willing to tempt fate by lighting a wand so close to the main boulevard. After passing two small shops, the path cut farther back around the much larger store. Soon Draco paused in front of a completely ordinary piece of wall. Draco furrowed his brows in concentration trying to remember the exact sequence. It had been nearly four years.

He took a deep breath before tapping his wand on five stones. The bricks separated and opened on a thick oak door with a knocker made out of a brass frowning devil. Draco leaned towards it and whispered, "Flibbertyjacket."

With this the devil's frown curled into a malevolent smile and the door flung inward abruptly. Harry followed Draco down the damp steps and came out into a cluttered storeroom. Above them, the secret passageway slammed shut. The noise was as daunting as the task itself.

This would be no quick search. From floor to ceiling, seeming endless piles of junk were stacked in moldy old boxes. With no organizational method apparent, Harry pointed towards the far end and said, "I'll start there."

As he walked off, Draco levitated down the highest box in the pile next to him and said, "We'll be fine, assuming the Death Eaters and Borgin, himself, all avoid the building for five months."

"Yeah, but I don't want see Hermione's face if we miss the train," Harry added as he pushed aside a small vase that tried to bite his fingers off.

Draco chuckled and tossed a puss-spewing, red-beaked grasshopper against the far wall and added, "True, if she has to deal with the prefects and students on her own, I'll never hear the end of it."

The search continued. They both tried to keep the atmosphere light for as long as they could, but as the minutes stretched into hours, hope turned to fear and then to depression. It seemed as if they might not succeed when Harry found a small floating paperweight he recognized from one of the cabinets he cleaned out a few years ago.

"This belonged to Sirius' great-uncle Lycorus," Harry announced. Draco set aside the cursed monkey paw he had just found and joined Harry. Together they tore through the remainder of Harry's box. With nothing else present, they split up the next two boxes.

"Got it," Draco said. He held up a hefty golden locket. With a small click the locket opened to reveal a picture of a bright smiling face. The dark-haired woman looked up from the book she was writing in and smiled warmly up at them. On the opposite side of the interior of the locket were the engraved initials of "S.S."

Both froze in place when they clearly heard a voice upstairs, "No one will look for us here, its long since abandoned."

"They can't find us or he might find out," Harry whispered. Draco started grabbing several random items including the monkey paw. Draco said, "Make it look like a robbery." Harry grabbed five random objects. He unintentionally yelped when a miniature clay figurine tried to stab him with a toothpick. An instant later, Draco's hand was on his and he was squeezed through a rubber tube and pulled out of the grimy basement. Draco had apparated them to a safe place, a familiar place. They stood together on a neatly trimmed small front lawn. Draco released him and Harry turned around to get his bearings. There were no Death Eaters or dark wizards or wizarding villages around him.

There was only a quiet little street of Surrey.

"Where… where… Privet Drive?" Harry asked.

"It was the only thing that popped in my head," Draco said. Then with a smirk, added, "I don't see any Death Eaters around, do you?"

"No, but we should go before we find something far worse… the Dursleys," Harry joked. "Let's get to—"

"Harry? Draco?" called a voice. Looking up, they saw Mr. and Mrs. Witchett standing across the street. They apparently had just gotten out of their car and the two groups met in the middle of the road. Mrs. Witchett continued, "What are you doing here? Sarah was looking for you at the train station."

Harry turned to Draco and exclaimed, "What time is it!"

"Quarter-past eleven," Mr. Witchett answered after glancing at his wristwatch.

Harry cleared his throat and explained, "We missed the train, but we can go straight to Hogsmeade and meet the train there."

"Or…" Draco announced.

"What?"

"We could just… jump on the train," Draco announced with a smile.

"Why? There's no reason to," Harry said.

Mrs. Witchett leaned forward and asked, "Is that safe?"

"No less so than anything else we've done today," Harry found himself saying. "But there is still the matter of why to try at all?"

"Besides what we mentioned earlier about Granger killing me," Draco paused. "Well it'll be fun like…"

"Like everything else we've done today?"

"Oddly enough, yes."

"Well," Mr. Witchett began, "You will be careful, won't you lads?"

Harry and Draco looked from them to each other and said together, "Of course."

And then they vanished.

_A/N: A bit shorter, quicker paced chapter for you here. Once again, I throw in the disclaimer that I don't own Harry Potter or any of the characters. Reviews have been coming in much fast this last week, but I always want more. I love me my reviews! So please do so... pleeease. I think it would be great if I one day get double digit reviews for a chapter. But not to just use this AN for review soliciting and disclaimers, I also wanted to tease the next chapter, where we get back with the whole gang and arrive at Hogwarts. Plus, hey, maybe a certain Chosen One should destroy that there Horcrux. I hope to have the next chapter up during the week or next Sunday at the latest. Thanks again._


	11. Home at Hogwarts

**CHAPTER TEN: Home at Hogwarts**

Popping onto an object in motion, especially when one can only form a decent estimation of its current location, adds to the disorienting effect of an apparation. The fact that the instant after arrival Harry and Draco were nearly run over by a precocious gaggle of third years Hufflepuffs sent them crashing to the floor. Draco hopped up and extended his hand to pull Harry to his feet. Without a word, they began searching down the corridors for the compartment with Ron and Hermione in it.

After five minutes, during which they poked their heads in nearly a quarter of the cabins on the Hogwarts Express, they found their destination. No sooner had the door opened than they were greeted by, "Where were you!"

Nudging past Hermione, Harry came into the compartment. Ron was napping with his head leaning on the window of the compartment and Crookshanks asleep at his side. There was a light drizzle beating against it. Ginny and Luna had been reading articles out of _The Quibbler_. When Harry entered Ginny stood up and embraced him without even removing her Spectrespecs.

"Hello, Harry," she said. Ginny kissed him lightly on the cheek before leading him into the two seats next to Luna.

"Hey, Gin," he answered. "How are you Luna?"

"Oh just fine, Harry. Have a good vacation?"

"Eventful, if nothing else," he responded with a sarcastic smile. He turned toward the door when he heard Hermione still chastising Draco.

"You smell like you've been crawling around in the muck, Potter," she said. Since letting Harry slip by, Hermione had repositioned herself in the middle of the doorway to block Draco's entry.

"Not even a scourgify is going to get rid of that smell. Heavens! You have to change before we go meet the prefects, which we should have done 15 minutes ago, but someone was late."

"Well, let me in and I can get to my trunk, Granger," Draco ordered.

She reluctantly moved aside and Draco reached over a mumbling Ron to pull a new set of clothes from his trunk. When he noticed Ginny sniffing loudly at him, Harry stood up and did the same thing. At this further disturbance, Ron rolled his head to the left and mumbled something about "churmugermurmurers."

"I quite agree," Luna nodded while turning a page in her paper. Ginny laughed and laid her head back. Soon both Potters had changed into new shirts, robes, socks and shoes. Draco placed his Head Boy badge in his pocket and put his dirty clothes in a small pile by the door. He took two items out of the pockets before standing up again. Hermione practically yelled, "Would you move it, Potter? If we're any later they'll never respect us, or just as bad they might tell the teachers we were shirking our duties. We might be stripped of our duties. What if Professor McGonagall hears about this?"

"Heavens forbid," Draco mocked, trying to wind her up. Hermione wasn't in the mood to get into another argument with him at the present moment, not while she had responsibilities to attend to. She turned to took off quickly out the door, while Draco handed Harry the locket and a severed ape hand.

Harry looked it over and asked, "What's this for?"

"It's cursed monkey paw," Draco said as if it was the most common thing in the world. "Weasel will love it. Oi, Weasley!"

Ron bolted up and looked at Draco. Crookshanks hopped down and rubbed against Draco's leg before he placed the purring and content creature in Ginny's lap. Arnold, her Pygmy Puff, rolled over her shoulder blade to be farther away from the cat, tickling Ginny along the way. Drearily, Ron said, "Finally, let's get on with it. What took you so bloody long you crazed git?"

"Just for that, Potter gets to keep the Forbidden Paw of the Ape King that I got for you," Draco retorted and turned heel. With a hearty laugh from Harry, Draco followed Hermione out the cabin door and down the hall. She kept up a brisk pace without turning back towards him. Ron trailed after them a moment later, stuffing the monkey paw into his robe pocket and adjusting his prefect's badge.

As Draco ducked under a low doorway that Hermione had been able to walk through easily, he chuckled at her. "What are you laughing about now?" she asked without turning around.

Draco smiled to himself for a moment and replied, "Just marveling at the fact that we all seem to have grown since fourth year. Weasley's well on his way towards proving some type of giant blood in the family tree. Yet you stay so… tiny."

At this she whipped around and demanded, "I am NOT tiny. I am five feet, three inches tall. That converts to more than 160 centimeters."

Marching ahead of her, Draco opened the door for the prefects' compartment. As she passed by, he whispered, "Confusing me with your muggle math won't win the argument that you're a bit of a sprog."

Hermione opened her mouth to retort, but closed it as she passed into the cabin and found 23 prefects staring at her. Clearing her throat, she walked towards the front with her head held high. Draco followed and stood next to her and she noticed that he still was not wearing his badge. Ron clammered in last of all and took his seat next to the new seventh year Gryffindor prefect, Lavender Brown. Neither looked pleased to be in close proximity to the other and soon both soon found themselves in danger of falling off opposite ends of their bench.

Looking around the room, Hermione saw more than a few new faces. Next to Lavender, there were three returning prefects from Gryffindor: Ron, Colin Creevey and Aribel Hender. The two new fifth years were Demelza Robins, who was the Chaser on the Quidditch team, and Jonathan Spriggle. Ravenclaw had three returning students; Anthony Goldstein, Padma Patil and a sixth year, Maria Seaborne. The only one of the other three new students from that house she recognized was Orla Quirke, a short brunette girl in fifth year with a pleasant smile. Hufflepuff was the only House with all four senior prefects returning. Hannah Abbott, smiled pleasantly at Hermione and waved when she walked by. Ernie Macmillan nodded towards her, but forced a fierce stare at Draco. Hermione assumed that he was jealous, since either he or Anthony would have been Head Boy if Draco hadn't changed sides.

The looks from the Slytherin prefects were even worse than Ernie's and Draco couldn't tell if they were directed at Hermione or him. _What did I hate more, muggle-borns or blood traitors? It's only been two months and already I can't remember. Maybe I just don't want to remember it… remember me._ His former friends Blaise and Pansy soon refused to do anything besides looking directly forward and ignoring the presence of the Heads. It was a clear enough answer. They would certainly have trouble from those two well before the year was out. Hermione saw it as well.

Draco cleared his throat as a way of indicating that Hermione should take the lead. She caught on quickly enough and began speaking, "Hello everyone. I hope you don't mind if I go over the basics a bit. Along with our fifth years and those replacing Mr. Potter and myself, we have a few more new faces. For those of you that don't know us, I'm Hermione Granger and this is Draco Potter. First off, I wanted to congratulate you all on being made prefects and I'm sure you all know what an honor and responsibility it is."

Pansy huffed at this and leaned back to whisper in Zabini's ear. He sniggered and Draco felt all of three feet tall in front of people he used to practically rule over. His days as a self-proclaimed Slytherin Prince were dead and gone. He had gotten far too used to being common in his mannerisms. Even his famous pointed aristocratic nose was rounded out and… ordinary. He knew he would need to toughen back up if he was to be a leader in Slytherin again. Otherwise Blaise and Pansy would push past him to claim leadership of the others. His House more than any other respected power and he couldn't win them over with Potter-y niceness.

Hermione decided to ignore the distractions and instead continued, "As prefects, your duties will include patrolling and enforcing school rules. Now, for today you'll be patrolling the train for the remainder of the ride to school. After the feast tonight, fifth years will escort your newest housemates to the dormatories. There will also be weekly prefect meetings every Monday an hour before first patrol in Firenze's Divination classroom."

Removing more than two dozen scrolls from her pocket, Hermione handed them to Hannah on her near left. As they were being passed along, she continued, "I've already written out patrolling schedules. Every group of two will patrol one hour a week at nine o'clock if you're in fifth year and one hour at either nine or ten if you're in sixth year. Seventh years will have two hours of patrolling split up onto two nights and Mr. Potter and myself will patrol from eleven to midnight five nights a week with Mondays and Fridays off. If for any reason you can't patrol your shift, report to myself or Mr. Potter by five o'clock the day of the patrol."

"Besides that you are examples for the school," she continued over a noticeable laugh from Pansy. "That includes keeping up your grades and obeying and enforcing school rules. Your enforcements include the right to issue detentions, but students can challenge these detentions to a Head of House or the deputy headmistress."

"Is it true we can dock points?" Demelza asked. Hermione smiled tightly at the question and said, "It's true, but only from your own House. It's how they ensure we don't show favoritism. Are there any other questions?"

Ernie raised his hand and stood, demanding, "Just where is Mr. Draco _Potter's_ Head Badge and how did _he _manage to get the job?"

"Mr. Potter… Draco was chosen as Head Boy by the headmaster, professors and governors of the school," Hermione answered shortly, trying her best to tower over the larger boy. "I expect you to show him all the respect any Head student deserves."

Pansy laughed and said loud enough to be heard, "So we show him the same respect as we do for Mudblood Granger."

"Ten points from Slytherin," Draco replied immediately. The entire car was deafly silent and Ron's mouth dropped wide open. Hermione expected the dark-haired girl to argue that the school year hadn't begun yet, but instead she looked forward and refused to acknowledge Draco's presence. This definitely wasn't how things were supposed to go. Of everyone in the room, people like Ron or Tony and Ernie should be the ones yelling at Draco for calling her that. If she didn't check her emotions, she might actually be proud of Draco Malfoy… _no not Malfoy. Definitely not._

"Let's just start patrolling the compartments and get into the start of the year," Hermione said. "Ron, would you and Lavender start in the back compartments."

Apparently as dumbstruck as most of the other observers, Ron took a moment before nodding at her and leading the prefects out onto the train. The others followed them out of the compartment in short order. Ernie was moving slow, so Hannah pulled him along out the door. Pansy and Blaise stood and walked out without so much as a glance in their direction and they were left alone. Hermione coughed and asked, "So that thing you gave Harry was… a Horcrux."

Draco nodded and began walking out. Hermione grabbed him by the arm and turned him around. She took his badge out of his pocket and without looking him in the eye said, "Ernie was right, you should wear this."

"He was also right when said I didn't deserve it."

"He didn't say that."

"I caught the message, Granger," he said and walked towards the exit. His heart stopped for a moment when Hermione reached up and pushed his auburn bangs back off of his forehead. When her hand slowly came away from his face, Draco reluctantly fixed his badge onto his robes.

"Hurry up or you'll set a bad example," he said softly.

Hermione assumed he might still be joking with her just a bit and soon after berated herself for smiling too brightly. She followed him out the door and they spent the next few hours walking the halls. In previous years, Hermione had found couples snogging in hallways and older students teasing the first years. Usually, said teasing was organized by the man next to her. This year the entire train was unusually subdued.

The quiet summer wasn't enough to make everyone forget the early trip home last year and the attack on the school. It weighed as much on Draco's mind as anyone else's. The most active area was Compartment C, where Professor Slughorn was holding his first annual Slug Club meeting. Draco and Hermione stuck their heads inside long enough to see a distraught Harry and Ginny being lectured by Melinda Bobbin on proper upkeep of apothecary supplies. Just a moment after Harry looked up and smiled at them, the two school Heads disappeared back into the corridor. Walking away, Draco remarked, "So, for the first time ever, Hermione Granger abandons Harry Potter to the lions."

"I wouldn't call them lions," Hermione laughed. "Besides that, Harry has learned to take care of himself."

By the time the sun set that evening, Draco started them back towards their own cabin when they saw Pansy and Blaise disappearing into a room. Suddenly something completely obvious hit Draco and he stopped dead in his tracks. Hermione went a couple of steps before turning around and asking, "What's the—"

"They knew it."

"Who knew what, Potter?" she asked. "Proper nouns would be helpful."

"Watch it, Granger. It's Zabini and Parkinson," Draco explained. He wiped his hair out of his face and adopted Harry's habit of rubbing the bridge of his nose when he continued, "They said they wouldn't come back if I was Head Boy because I was a Potter and a blood traitor."

"So, we've always known that they were…" Hermione trailed off and then her eyes gained a new and sharper focus. "But Neville didn't know two weeks later. The student body didn't know until after all the articles in the _Prophet_, but…"

"The only people in the world that knew I was really a Potter before then were Harry, me, you, the Weasleys, the Order and—"

"Voldemort and Death Eaters," she finished. "So they were… they're here working for him. We should go tell the others. We need to tell Harry right away."

Draco grabbed her arm at the elbow and quickly made their way back into the compartment. Once there, they brought Harry and the others up to speed on their discovery. Luna had left earlier to speak with some of her fellow Ravenclaws, but the dazed and far-off expressions of everyone in the room reminded Ginny of her best friend. Harry took the information quietly and removed his glasses and repeated Draco's earlier movement, rubbing at his eyes and letting out a frustrated sigh.

"Damn Slytherins," Ron cursed. After a moment, he added, "Sorry, Ferret."

"We can't all be goody-goody, know-it-all Gryffindors, Weasel."

Harry waited for the comment to pass and finally stated, "Well, we couldn't expect him to pull out all of his supporters."

"And really this gives us an edge," Hermione mentioned, the great wheels of her mind turning quickly; thinking and planning out strategies.

"How? Death Eaters or… how does it help?" Ginny asked. Harry noticed her hands were clenching his tightly. Gin was quickly falling into a protective attitude reminiscent of her mother.

Hermione opened her mouth, but Draco spoke first. "We can watch them. There might be others and knowing about two can lead us to the rest, maybe people we wouldn't suspect otherwise. When are they patrolling the school?"

Hermione pulled her scroll out and unrolled it before answering, "Saturday at ten, just before us and the last shift on Mondays after Ron and Lavender."

"We'll have to watch them," Harry explained. "They can't be allowed out alone."

"Well, we can start our rounds early and shadow them on Saturday," Hermione decided.

"We'll use the Marauder's Map and my invisibility cloak on Monday nights," Harry said. "You two should have it with you on Saturday. And no telling anyone else, not even the professors, Hermione."

"But—"

"He's right Granger," Draco interrupted. After a significant pause by everyone in the room, he continued, "Did I just say that?... Anyway, if too many people know, if we pull the noose too tight and somebody else is going to slip through our grasp."

"So we always follow them in groups," Ron agreed. "We watch each others' backs. We protect one another."

Draco nodded and the train whistled and pulled to a stop. Just as Harry finished pulling on his robe, there was a knock on the door. Hermione went to open it and the Potter brothers heard a familiar voice call, "Excuse me, I'm looking for Draco and Harry. Are they in here?"

Harry shared a brief smile with his brother before calling, "Come on in, Sarah."

Hermione stepped aside and the small blonde girl came running in. Standing in front of them, Sarah bounced in place in her new Hogwarts' robes. She excitedly said, "I've been looking for you everywhere. I met some nice first years. Mary Bones is a lovely girl. Her sister is in Hufflepuff, but I hope she ends up in my House."

"And what House will you be in?" Draco demanded with a smirk.

Sarah smiled widely and answered, "It's a surprise, but I have it all worked up. I already heard about the Sorting Hat and I have a plan."

"Well, I suppose we'll have to leave it at that," Draco said. "Now, since everyone here has surely deduced that you are the Miss Witchett that we've been talking about… well except maybe Mr. Weasley."

Ron punched Draco in the shoulder. He responded only by pointing around the room and introduced them all to Sarah. By the time they finished Hermione was physically pushing them off of the train. Introductions after all were no excuse for tardiness. Sarah ran off when Hagrid was calling for first years. An equally small girl with long reddish-brown hair soon joined her.

"Is it me," Ron asked, "or are they getting shorter every year?"

"At the rate you're going, you'll say that about all of us and Hagrid, too, someday," Ginny giggled. Harry laughed and climbed into a carriage directly behind those of the prefects. Ginny hopped up right after him and Luna followed. Glancing every now and then at the thestrals, Harry continued to stare out the window, anxious for his first glance at the school. Ginny was silently napping on his shoulder and across from them Luna stared vacantly out the window and playing absently with her bottle-cork necklace. Harry's attention was pulled back in force when the castle came into view over a small hill. The sun had set by now and the lights of the castle reflected off the lake to his right. The castle was, as always, hauntingly beautiful, illuminated in starlight and soft moonlight. There really wasn't a part of Hogwarts that he didn't love. The Astronomy Tower at the top was almost the end for Dumbledore and himself, but instead it was the beginning of finding a brother. At the bottom far beneath the lake, kilometers farther away than even the Slytherin dungeons was the violent memory of a Chamber and a great snake. He had almost lost his life that night. He had almost lost… he had almost never had Ginny.

It was funny how so much of the school from Quidditch with Draco to adventures with Hermione and Ron were mixtures of joy and suffering. But maybe that was how, he felt alive and vibrant. Hogwarts, if nothing else, was the symbol of an entirely new life for Harry. One he never dreamed possible before actually seeing it. It dawned on Harry that this would more than likely be his final thestral-drawn ride up to the school. He shook his head and tried to figure out what had happened to the last six years.

For all that occurred, for all the good and bad, the years still seemed to fly by so fast. The end of his life at Hogwarts had now clouded his horizon and it was hard to imagine life without the school, life without Voldemort hanging over him, without the war. Farther off in the lake, he saw the tall outline of Hagrid leading the first years across in the boats. Some of them were staring up at the castle and others gazed down at the giant squid that had come up to welcome them. Harry wondered if time always seems so great from the beginning and so fleeting from the end. After the carriages pulled to a stop, Harry and Ginny held hands and walked up the main stairs. By the time they reached the top, a young dark-haired boy clutching a frog had caught up with them.

"Hello all," Neville greeted with a smile.

The shorter boy seemed unusually happy and Harry asked, "Excited for the new year?"

"Of course, though it's sad that it's the last," he answered. "But this was the first train ride up that nobody has tried to bother or harass me. I just sat and talked about classes with Dean and Seamus. Trevor didn't even manage to get away from me this time. How are things with you and your brother?"

Glancing upward, Harry saw Draco and Hermione leading the prefects into the Great Hall. He answered, "Fine, he's been unusually civil with Ron and Hermione. Maybe they'll all become friends someday."

Ginny giggled at this, but Harry's disappointed face caused her to look down and quietly whisper an apology to him. The girl silently wished she could take it back. For all the complexities and problems in Harry's life, Ginevra Weasley wanted to be the one simple and easy and loving thing for him.

Walking into the Great Hall, they glanced up and noticed the room was nearly empty. The teachers had all gathered at the front table and the prefects were sitting at their House tables, but other than that, Harry and the seventh years behind him were the first in the Hall. _So this would be life at the top of the heap._ Luna departed the group at the Ravenclaw table, taking her wand out of her pocket and affixing it securely behind her left ear to keep it from wandering off as things of hers tended to do.

Harry noticed both she and Draco were sitting down near the foot of their respective tables as his group walked about three-quarters of the way up the Gryffindor table to sit across from Ron and Hermione. Ron was already complaining about the wait and his hunger and he quietly worked in a reminder that Hermione was making him patrol with his ex-girlfriend two nights a week. Hermione didn't seem to be paying much attention to him. Instead she was sitting up straight and smiling widely at the students walking into the Hall. She looked every bit the Head Girl. Being trusted with the position, the first place amongst all the students was a six-year long dream and it quieted down some of the demons of her mind. Hermione Granger was definitively good and happy. She seemed proud, but still warm and kind and reminded Harry more than a little of the Lily he had seen in memories.

Glancing over his shoulder at Draco, Harry noticed he reminded him nothing of the Head Boy that their father had been. Rather than surrounded by friends and admirers, he sat alone at the foot of the table and the rest of his House crowded as far away from him as possible. He was trying to look unaffected by it all, but as usual he no longer had the cold grey eyes and pale face to hide it behind. This was not the culmination of a dream that put Draco's demons and self-doubts to rest. It was just another in a very long line of battles with them. After a few minutes all the students had taken their seats and the doors of the Great Hall closed under their own strength. The rest of the school grew somewhat quieter, anxiously awaiting the sorting and the feast that would follow.

"And I don't know why we can't have some snacks or appetizers or anything while we wait for them to cross the lake and wait and then the song and sorting and speech, when all we really want is a bit to—"

"Hush, Ron," Ginny ordered just as the doors swung open again and Professor McGonagall marched in the new first years. Harry followed their eyes up to the enchanted ceiling and realized it had actually been years since he had even looked at it. He felt a bit of a pull at his heart when he realized how ordinary he had let everything become. Maybe after six years it has just become an excepted way of life, but he still wanted it to seem like first year, to see through their eyes; otherwise magic just wasn't _magical_.

The Sorting Hat was soon brought out and placed on the stood in front of the school tables. It huffed and cleared its throat. Then it sang out in a loud, familiar voice.

_Fifty score of years passed by,_

_Since stone by stone Great Hogwarts rose._

_Good days since then, yes good friends,_

_But alas we've had our woes._

_When days of pain and darkness rise_

_Remember please what is best,_

_Not to get lost on the path,_

_But be side-by-side with the rest._

_It was not always so very dark_

_There was no cold or bitter frost._

_In the start, just four friends_

_Teaching with no thought of cost._

_Lovely Rowena, a maiden fair,_

_Brought the wisest to the school._

_Smart Salazar, he had much care_

_To take the cunning and n'ere a fool._

_Mighty Godric was a hearty lad;_

_The bravest he deemed the best._

_Sweet Helga, what a time she had,_

_Teaching all the rest._

_So far we come_

_We forget the start_

_And the truth we know,_

_That each one has a beating heart_

_The soul bright aglow._

_And brotherhood once vanished_

_Though long torn asunder,_

_Can not forever be banished._

_Love, it truly is a wonder._

_Act better than the past_

_And be not four, but one_

_A House is where you sleep_

_But without Hogwarts we are none_

_So listen closely to me, _

_I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_On one thing all Founders did agree_

_This is what I'm best at!_

McGonagall turned and instructed them to wait at the top of the middle aisle between the Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw tables. She then walked across the teacher's table, Harry noticed that Slughorn had moved into Snape's usual chair near the center and at the far left next to a crying Hagrid, he saw a very solemn pair that he recognized immediately as the youngest of the Weasley couples.

"There's Bill and Fleur," Harry said, drawing the attention of Ron and the others. Both of the Weasleys waved to their older brother, but received only a sad smile in return. Fleur also seemed more downhearted than she had ever been, at least in all the days that they had known her.

"What's the matter, do you suppose?" Ginny asked with a deep sense of concern and worry in her voice.

"Don't know, we'll talk to him after the feast, Gin," whispered Ron.

"Maybe they're just tired from their trip," Harry suggested. "Where did they go again?"

"They were alone in Italy for a couple of weeks and then they went to visit her parents in the south of France," Ginny replied. "Maybe they just got in, but it seems like—"

"Shush, you're missing the sorting," Hermione admonished. She was also cheering for the newest member of Gryffindor House, Faisal Cornelius. The unusually tall boy had a dark completion, but a wide smile conveyed how happy he was with his new House. As he sat down not too far left of Dean Thomas, Harry and the remainder of the table looked up to see the next student. Harry's eyes went wide when McGonagall called out, "Delacour, Gabrielle."

Sure enough a small, sad looking, but beautiful girl walked up to the front, glancing nervously towards Bill and her sister, and sat on the stool. When the Sorting Hat dropped on her head, Harry leaned closer to Ginny and whispered, "I thought she went to Beauxbaton. Did she transfer maybe?"

"They're all so sad," Hermione noted. "Something awful has happened."

Ron patted her on the shoulder and looked to Harry, who wrapped his arm around Ginny and said, "Ron's right. Talk to them after the feast."

"HUFFLEPUFF!" the Sorting Hat yelled. And with a short wave to her sister and brother-in-law, Gabrielle marched quietly towards the table and took a seat near the front. The remainder of the Sorting went uneventfully and Harry and his group cheered wildly each time a new Gryffindor was added. Harry was particularly interested in a certain name towards the back of the line. He completely turned around on the bench when McGonagall called out, "Witchett, Sarah."

The girl appeared a bit tentative for the first time since Harry had met her as she walked up toward the stool and hopped up into the seat. McGonagall placed the Hat on her head and almost immediately it opened it mouth to scream a House name, but Sarah grabbed the rim of the Hat and pulled it deeper onto her head. He remembered how the Sorting Hat's first inclination was to place him in Slytherin and he had to fight to become a Gryffindor. It looked like Sarah would not go quietly either. There were only two students left after her and Ravenclaw had already filled its quota of ten new students. Finally, Sarah released the Hat and it yelled, "SLYTHERIN!"

Had Harry been facing the other direction, he would have noticed Ron wearing the exact same expression with their mouths hanging open several inches and eyes wide. Harry tried his level best to force his hands together in congratulations for her. The table at the other end cheered at the addition of their tenth and final first year student. No sooner had the older woman lifted up the Sorting Hat, than she raced down the length of the first table and past most of the students. Their cheers died away almost completely when she sat right next to Draco on the far side of the table away from the other students. Despite the shocked appearances of both Harry's group and the Slytherins, it didn't seem to register with Sarah who simply sat proudly next to Draco.

Not really wishing she would so obviously and completely ostracize herself from most of the House, Draco couldn't completely contain his appreciation. Turning slightly, he nodded and smiled at her briefly. The entirety of the school brought their attention back towards the front of the room as Pauletta Wilkins was sorted into Hufflepuff and Clara Young joined Gryffindor. After the Hat was removed, the Great Hall grew deafly silent as a smiling Dumbledore slowly rose from his chair. Clearing his throat, the headmaster tapped his cane on the ground twice, lowering all the lights in the hall slightly. He called out, "Welcome to another fine year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry!"

The students all cheered loudly at this. Dumbledore had to pause before he could continue, "We are joined here together in dark time, but always remember that we face them together. We face them as friends and family. As usual, we have a few housekeeping notes before we begin. For all our first year students, please note that the forest on school ground is as always off limit to students. And of course, use of magic outside the classroom is as strictly forbidden as it always has been. Also, for the first time in three years, our school will be holding a ball."

Again there was a pause when a roar of agreement and pleasure rose up, most notably from the female portion of the school. A few students might confess that they saw Dumbledore wink at them before he added, "Students from every year are invited to celebrate our hopes for a future lived in a quiet and lasting peace. The event will be held on the grounds on the northern border of the lake near the end of October. More information will be posted as the year moves on in regards to our very first Serenity Ball."

"Next, it is my honor to introduce our potions master, Professor Horace Slughorn, as the new Head of House for Slytherin." Professor Slughorn nodded and received a polite applause. "Also, Professor Bill Weasley joins us as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts instructor." The general student body clapped politely again, except Ginny and Ron, who stood a cheered madly for him. Bill offered no more than the same short nod Slughorn had.

Ginny sat down and stated, "You're right. Something's terribly wrong and just plain… un-Bill about him. I wish we could talk with them sooner."

Harry gripped her hand tightly and intertwined their fingers as Dumbledore continued, "And of course his lovely wife Miss Fleur Weasley will be joining us at Hogwarts. She will be serving as a teaching assistant for Professor McGonagall's early and mid-year Transfiguration classes and we expect her to be shown the same respect as any other member of the faculty and staff here at Hogwarts."

Taking a deep breath, Dumbledore stared down for a moment. It seemed to Harry as if his balance nearly faltered before he looked up and went on, "Finally, I ask that we take a moment to remember those we have lost since last we gathered. A moment of silence for our dear Professor Severus Snape and a good friend and ally Madame Olympe Maxine and all the other lost friends and family."

Harry stayed silent but was quickly exchanging glances with those near him. The something terrible that indeed must have happened came into a clearer focus. Hagrid made a quiet sob as Bill patted him on the back. Turning and catching Draco's eye they shared a thought. If Maxine was dead and Gabrielle was going to school here, then something dreadful happened in France in the last few days. Voldemort, it appeared, was most definitely done being quiet.

The entire student body was fixed on Dumbledore as he rose his head and finished, "I urge us all to take this time to rededicate to the causes that these fine people spent their lives in service of. Not just in battle against those who wish us ill, but in their unswerving dedication to the principles of educating new generations of witches and wizards. To pass on that knowledge which must never be lost… never be forgotten, or we all might fade from memory as well. We must all remember how truly magical our lives are, be we wizard or muggle. Now, let us begin a new year. I do hope you will all lighten the load on your hearts and fill a load in your stomachs."

With a great wave of his hand on the last line, a great feast appeared on every table. Most of the room was still quiet though, besides the gasps of awe common among the first years. The great applauses one often associated with gatherings in the Great Hall would no longer come as readily or easily as before. Ron dug in quickly, but Hermione leaned forward and talked quietly with Harry and Ginny.

"There was nothing in Saturday's copy of the _Daily Prophet_," she said. "Whatever happened, took place just last night."

"Or maybe they're trying to keep it quiet at the Ministry," Ron suggested. "I don't trust that Scrimgeor at all. I mean this and Azkaban all in one night and for all we know they didn't do a single thing about it."

Leaning forward, Harry whispered, "We need to talk to Dumbledore anyway after the feast. We'll just see what we can find out then."

Harry did his level best to stay positive during the meal, but all the dark thoughts were weighing heavily on him. Even with the Horcrux in his pocket, Voldemort had now swelled his ranks greater than any other time in Harry's life and the attack on a great magical school like Beauxbaton could mean the start of a conflict bigger than anything Harry had seen before. As people around him slowly began talking about their summers and class schedules, this group was unusually detached. It wasn't until Demelza and the other returning players came over to ask about Quidditch tryouts that most of them rose out of their stupor. The world was not so dark that all the simple pleasures could be banished for long. Things were not that bad… yet.

"I've been practicing all summer," Demelza said. "I think we've got a good shot at the cup again."

"Better than a _good_ shot," Ron added. "Ravenclaw still doesn't have a seeker to replace Chang yet and Hufflepuff had three players graduate and another not return."

"We are the only House with nearly all our regulars returning," Harry noticed. "Not that Slytherin will miss Crabbe and Goyle all that much."

Ginny smiled and kissed Harry, "Well, if our captain can stay out of trouble and stop missing games we should be just fine. In years, he's only been beaten to the snitch once, my little hero."

"He was attack by Dementors!" Ron yelled his mouth full of mashed potatoes. "You can't count that against him."

The rest of the Gryffindor Quidditch team erupted into laughter. Harry had to admit that the team was looking like a runaway favorite for the House Cup. They had been an incredible team back in his earlier years with Oliver, Katie, Angela and the Weasley twins, but the teams had been far more competitive back then. Of the four best players to emerge after Harry's first year: Cho, Draco, Ginny and Ron (when he wasn't overcome with nerves), two were on his squad and one of the others had graduated. But with Hufflepuff rebuilding and Ravenclaw without an experienced seeker, the biggest hurdle towards an undefeated season would be the Slytherin match in five weeks. A change to the last name wouldn't make someone like Draco a weaker opponent. If anything, Harry was nervous about the Slytherin match more so than in recent years.

Glancing over his shoulder again, Harry saw a sight that earned a laugh. Ron and the others followed his eyes and soon they were all chuckling at the sight. Apparently, Sarah's excitable state had convinced three other first years to join them. The sight of Draco trying to make conversation with three very short first years was quite a change for the usual torture sessions he inflicted on them.

"Is that really Susan's little sister in Slytherin?" Ginny asked, nodding towards the girl with reddish-brown hair directly sitting on Sarah's left.

Hermione nodded and answered, "Mary Bones, yes, it actually pretty rare for siblings or families to break up Houses. We actually have three in school right now and even that's fairly rare."

"Where do you learn these things, Hermione?" Ron questioned.

Hermione simply huffed and shook her head, while Harry explained, "What do you think she's been doing with her head buried in _Hogwarts: A History_ for the past six years?"

Ginny continued, in a high-pitched, mocking voice, "Don't forget her second year, she left it at home so she could bring all of _Gilderoy's_ books."

Hermione blushed a bit and said, "Hush, Gin."

Of course, all her friends were far too busy laughing about her first, short-lived and _only _girlish crush to listen to her quiet request. As the feast was winding down, Harry looked over and saw Dumbledore napping in his chair with a content smile on his face. Without a yawn or a stretch, he stood straight up and announced, "Ladies and gentlemen, this will conclude our Opening Feast for the year. First years will please follow your House prefects to your dormitories where you will find your luggage waiting for you. Farewell and good evening. And if I may be serious for a moment, I wish to remind all the seventh years… Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!"

And just like that, Professor Dumbledore made the world seem a bit brighter for those eldest students that could remember their first feast, their first night and their first moments together at Hogwarts. By the time Harry fingered the locket in his pocket and turned around, Draco was already up and working his way through the exiting crowd towards the Gryffindor table. Despite almost being crushed by a group of seventh year Hufflepuffs, he reached the far table relatively quickly and unscathed. Ginny turned to Harry and told him, "Ron and I are going after Bill. We'll see you back up in the tower."

After kissing Harry, she turned and added, "Good night, Hermione, Draco."

"Good night, Ginny. I'll see you in the morning, Ron."

"'Night, Hermione," Ron replied. "If Ferret tries anything, Harry and I promise to kill him."

"I don't think Harry's the type for fratricide," Hermione responded with a laugh. Looking at Ron's vacant expression, she added, "It means to kill one's sibling"

Ron smiled and followed Ginny towards the exit after their eldest brother and his wife. Harry and the others turned towards the front table. Dumbledore stood alone as the last students and teachers filed out the main doors. Meeting the younger students, he said, "Perhaps we should have this conversation in a more private location. May I escort you to the Head students' dormitory?"

"Yes, sir," Hermione answered. "That would be lovely of you."

"Excellent," he said and began leading the way out of the main hall and up towards the moving staircases. "I must say, I thought the feast tonight was most excellent. I simply must congratulate the house elves."

After glancing to Hermione, he went on, "Unfortunately Miss Granger, none but Dobby will consider taking freedom or pay for their services."

Listening to the headmaster and head girl discuss elven rights was a conversation neither of the Potters wanted to partake in. They instead slowly faded back to speak a bit more privately. Leaning close to his brother's ear, Draco whispered, "Is it true the elves stopped cleaning Gryffindor Tower because of her hiding clothes everywhere? That would explain the smell. I simply want to know what I'm getting myself into here."

"Stop that will you. Actually, Dobby enjoys being free and took over all cleaning duties when she started hiding clothes to free the others. See, she started this organization awhile back called spew—"

"S-P-E-W, I heard about it. Rather simplistic and foolish, isn't it? I mean freedom is a punishment for most of them."

"Hermione has never and will never be a fool. She's just an idealist."

"Wonderful, an annoyingly perfect saint for a brother and a bookworm idealist for a roommate."

Grabbing Draco's arm, he said, "Just try and be nice to her, alright?"

"I am nice, damn it."

"Most of the time you are to me and to some people. And you have that strange friendly habit of trading insults and compliments with Ron, which I admit is rather amusing. But you and Hermione are always arguing."

"No, we're not. Sometimes we ignore each other."

"Damn it, Draco. You're my brother and she's one of my very best friends. Just try and make a bigger effort. Please."

"How did I end up with such a wanker for a brother?" Draco asked. "If the twit leaves me alone, I'll do the same. But it's not as if you should hold out much hope."

Harry decided to take that as the best answer he could expect at the moment and continued in silence up towards a tower not too far removed from Gryffindor's entrance. Dumbledore and Hermione stopped just ahead of them and the headmaster turned around and said, "Harry and I shall wait back while you set the password."

Harry waited with Dumbledore while Draco and Hermione marched up to the painting of the same fat country friar with a jug of firewhiskey in his hand. He had a fading hairline and sat in a wicker chair under an apple tree. Hermione and Draco talked quietly for several minutes. It was rather obvious that each one was growing more agitated at every suggestion from the other. Finally, Draco yelled, "Fine! As if it even matters!"

With that Hermione leaned closer to the portrait and whispered the password. When the portrait swung open, she motioned for Harry and Dumbledore to follow. Harry climbed the remaining steps and walked into the Heads' common room. There had been several changes since his parent's days in the enormous room. The sitting area still had an enormous brick fireplace, now ablaze, and a large comfortable-looking sofa and two chairs surrounding a large coffee table. There were still the three doors for the bedrooms and bathroom, but while Hermione's room still had a great lion carved above it, the Head Boy's room now bore a large snake carving. Both animals could be seen moving about their crests in the light of the fire. The bathroom had the school crest above it. But there were changes as well. An extra passageway near Draco's room and stairs starting near the entrance and running up the outer wall clockwise over the entrance to Hermione's room. There were three doors on the upper landing.

"I assume both Harry and Draco remember this room from our parents' time here," Dumbledore began as he sat in one of the massive chairs. Harry took the other chair and Hermione and Draco sat on the couch between them.

"There seem to be several _improvements _made," Draco noted.

"Oh yes, seeing as how this is an unusual year, we have tried to accommodate the unique circumstances you and your friends have."

As he went on Dumbledore gestured to an open archway just to the left of the entrance, but before Draco's bedroom door. "A small kitchen has been provided. The house elves will have fresh tea ready each morning and the ice chest will refill with whatever you take out."

"Better not let Weasley know about that," Draco sniggered.

"Can't you just be polite?" Hermione asked. "Is it really so hard?"

"It was just a damn joke, Granger."

Dumbledore cleared his throat and continued, "Now on the second floor, we have a guest room that can accommodate both Harry and Mr. Weasley. There are also two passages. One will lead to your bedroom, Harry. I thought it might be wise for you to spend more nights where nobody else can find you. The door in the tower is invisible to others and will only open for you or Mr. Weasley."

"Wonderful," Draco said. "Surrounded by my enemies while I sleep."

"Former enemies," Harry reminded him. "Besides you do still have your own room."

"The other passageway leads to a secret entrance in the library that will admit only Ms. Granger and Draco," Dumbledore added. As this Hermione's eyes bolted to the older man and she broke out into a wide smile. It looked as if all her Christmas and birthdays had come together all at once.

"S—So we can go… oh my," she stuttered. "And.. any time I… oh…"

"Granger… don't explode or anything," Draco said in a calm tone. Hermione broke out in a slight blush before she managed to collect herself and smile warmly at Dumbledore.

"Now, I believe we both have some tales to recount," Dumbledore announced. "First, I must tell you of the sad events in France this weekend. No doubt the _Daily Prophet_ will have the story for tomorrow morning, but I would not have the uncertainty weighing on your heart another night."

"It was Voldemort, wasn't it?" Harry asked. "How bad?"

"I fear the great castle of Beauxbaton is no more," Dumbledore said. "Tonight we saw the only survivor of the attack join our own school. Madam Maxine was lost to us and nearly 200 young witches and wizards were murdered."

Hermione began, "But the school was protected like Hogwarts is, how did they—"

"It seems as if the majority of the giants have chosen a side in this conflict. They were soon reinforced by several Death Eaters, most likely the bulk of his forces not involved in the Azkaban break-out. Young Miss Delacour is alive today, only thanks to Mr. Weasley and his wife visiting her family in Marseilles. Their quick actions managed to pull at least some good news out of this tragedy. I fear Hagrid is near inconsolable. And unfortunately I have obtained no new information on Voldemort's Horcruxes or his plans for the future. I fear the loss of Professor Snape as a spy is a far greater penalty then my life was worth. These are grim times indeed. I do hope you have better news for me."

Harry proceeded to relate to the headmaster the adventure of the previous couple of days. It finally dawned on him how he hadn't slept in the last 37 hours. Dumbledore had already heard some of it from Mundungus earlier that morning, but he smiled especially wide at them managing to apparate onto a moving train. At the end of the story, Harry removed the locket from his robes and set it on the table. It shone brightly and the light of the fire danced on the surface. Harry rose and pointed his wand at the locket and with a nod from Dumbledore, he spoke, "_Reducto_."

In a blast of metal, glass and smoke, the locket shattered into a thousand small shards. With a wave of his hand, Dumbledore swept them into the fireplace.

"And so we stand one pace closer to stopping him," the headmaster said. "One step nearer the defeat of Voldemort. Well done both of you. I do, however, think it is time we all retired for the evening. And I do hope you will not allow these events to distract you from the necessity of your classes in the morning."

"Of course not, professor," Hermione answered quickly for all of them while she rose to escort the guests to the portrait hole.

_A/N: I apologize profusely for attempting a Sorting Hat song for I feel I have very little talent for it. Nevertheless here is another chapter. I once again wanted to thank all my reviewers. I remain convinced the feedback can only make me a better writer. I know that I'm probably torturing more than a few of you with the slow pace of the Draco/Hermione aspect of the story, but those two have a long journey. Hey, all good things come to those who wait. I think the next couple of chapters are some of my best, so please review quickly a in great numbers to encourage me to write quicker and post sooner._


	12. Reborn From the Ashes

**CHAPTER ELEVEN: Reborn From the Ashes**

The first day of classes at Hogwarts held a few pleasant surprises. McGonagall passed out the schedules at breakfast as always. Harry noticed that Dumbledore was not present at the teachers' table, but after the last several years he knew better than to question the older man's motives or methods. He had come to accept there would be no greater ally in the war against Voldemort. So Harry was determined to try and follow the headmaster's advice and get back into his school routine. He had loved the last six years at Hogwarts and regardless of everything else, this was his last year at the old school and he wanted to cherish it.

But the news of Beauxbaton was deeply sobering. Ron and Ginny had told him Bill and Fleur's great adventure rescuing Gabrielle as soon as Harry returned to Gryffindor Tower last night. As proud as they were of his bravery, they shared in his pain. Both of Fleur's parents died when the four of them tried to save the young girl. Despite earlier animosity, Ginny truly learned to care for Fleur and the shared heartache left those who loved them downcast. Harry was anxious to talk to Hagrid, who had seemed lost in grief the night before. Even Hermione was quiet this morning, too lost in her own quiet contemplation to discuss classes.

Harry and Ron had all morning filled with NEWT classes from Monday through Thursday and a morning Defense class on Friday with afternoon Herbology classes at the start and close of the week. Hermione was in all five of their classes as well as a pair of Ancient Runes classes and two afternoon Arithmancy lessons midweek. Even if his friends didn't share his enthusiasm, Harry was delighted to see the three seventh-year Slytherins shared Defense, Charms, Transfiguration and Potions with the Gryffindors and in some cases a third house.

"You realize Dumbledore had something to do with it," Hermione announced. "He obviously wants to keep you two close to each other."

"He'll be good to have around," Harry argued. "He's spent more time this summer reading than even you."

Hermione stared at her porridge and replied, "Well, it's just been an especially busy summer and I've read most of the textbooks already."

"Besides," Ron added, "Since when has Ferret ever been a good student? He probably still can't hold a candle to Hermione."

Harry rubbed his forehead. He was immensely tired of having this discussion with his friends. "You know last year, I was the one convinced he was a Death Eater and the pair of you were defending him."

"I never defended him!" Ron exclaimed. "Just didn't think he was important enough to work for You-Know-Who yet."

"It's just, I have to take Ancient Runes alone with him," Hermione added. "And I just know Professor Orkney will put us in a group together since we're the Head students."

"How is that going?" Ginny asked while concentrating mostly on her biscuit.

"Yeah, can't imagine I'll every actually _want_ to come sleep in the same dorm as him," Ron added.

Hermione finished a bite and answered, "I don't really know yet. We were only up for an hour or so planning the first prefects' meeting for tonight after Harry and Dumbledore left. But after six years living in a dorm with a few dozen girls, I can appreciate that at least he doesn't take that long in the bathroom. Oh, speaking oh… um, Harry, I wanted to find out when we could start the DA meetings again. We can have the prefects put up postings tonight."

"Umm…" Harry hadn't given it too much thought since the idea was mentioned over the summer. "Do we really need it? I mean Bill will do a far better job than Umbridge or Snape."

"Yeah, we should at least talk it over with him first," Ginny interjected. "I don't want him to be put off by it."

Hermione nodded and said, "Of course we can tell him today, but this is about more than a replacement for a class. It wasn't just about getting back at Umbridge... well except for Fred and George, but it's always been important. How many powerless students feel more prepared and capable thanks to it? You know Neville and Luna would be with us in a heartbeat and most of the prefects were members."

Harry glanced over towards the Slytherin table and saw Draco. He was helping Mitchell Willowing, one of Sarah's first year friends, with his green and silver tie. The table on the far end had become sharply divided. Pansy and Blaise sat near the head of the table with most of the House pushed as close to them as possible. Down at the foot of the table, only the youngest members of his House surrounded Draco. Sarah was in what was quickly becoming her standard place with Draco on her right and Mary Bones on her left. Mitchell sat opposite Sarah with pair of first year boys on either side of him. The only other students in this group were a couple of second year girls that Harry thought stared rather favorably at Draco. Still, he was glad his brother didn't have to sleep in the Slytherin dungeon anymore. Despite his confidence, the house odds were 30-8 against him and he was the only experienced wizard in his group.

As the bell sounded for the first classes of the day, Ginny stood and said her goodbyes, "Well, see you all at lunch, I'm off to Potions."

"Say hi to Slughorn for us," Ron joked.

Harry would spend three mornings a week in his favorite class. Walking into the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom he saw Bill sitting at his desk at the head of the room waiting for the students. The desks in the classroom had been removed and instead two long rows of chairs were set in front of a long dueling platform. Harry, Ron and Hermione took seats in the first row. Draco entered the room only moments later and took a seat on Harry's left. They were soon after joined by Neville, who surprised them all by sitting next to Draco and discussing what they expected in tomorrow's Care of Magical Creatures class.

"Knowing Hagrid, probably something on level four or five that will try and bite our heads off," Draco decided.

Neville cleared his throat and paled slightly at the idea. Before long Dean and Seamus arrived and sat on the other side of Hermione, as far away from Draco as they could. Harry and Draco both gripped their wands tightly when Blaise and Pansy entered and took two chairs directly behind them. Harry and his brother both sat still, determined not to look around at them. Lastly, five Hufflepuff students entered, led by Hannah and Ernie. When they were all seated, Bill looked up from his desk in the corner.

Walking up to the platform, he began speaking, "Welcome to your seventh-year Defense Against the Dark Arts class. In the future, textbooks will not be required on Mondays. We will use these periods for practical sessions. Every Wednesday you are to arrive with a chapter of your text read and prepared for discussion. Fridays will be left open for theoretical discussion on highly advanced magic, including nonverbal dueling and wandless spells. Due every Monday is a 20-inch scroll discussing both the chapter and theoretical discussions from the previous week."

Hermione tried to take notes, using her textbook as a substitute desk and Ron seemed to be holding his breath waiting for the fun-loving Bill he had expected. Instead the tall man with a dragon-tooth earring simply continued rattling off more course requirements, "A 125-inch essay examining and critiquing your own dueling style and abilities is due by Easter. Now I know some of you personally and I have read transcripts on the rest. Not only am I certain you can handle the work load, but I fully expect competent practicals from the lot of you. So let's begin, shall we."

Walking over to one end of the dueling platform, he went on, "Now I'm sure you've all studied and mastered all manner of minor confusion and freezing spells, but who can tell me the three core types of advanced assault spells?"

As expected the first and only hand in the room to shoot up was that of the Head Girl. "Miss Granger?"

"Cutting, Bludgeoning and Direct Application."

"Very good, 10 points to Gryffindor," Bill replied with a smile. "Our first spells of the year will be of the bludgeoning variety. The Pangodurus Curse would hit a person will roughly the force of an anvil and is far too powerful for Protego to counter. What is an example of a more powerful shielding charm?"

It actually took a moment's thought before Hermione shot her hand upward. Bill waited a moment to see if any others would venture a chance, and then nodded at Hermione.

"The Proaspizo Charm," she answered.

Bill awarded another 10 points to her. Harry noticed she was smiling widely now. Hermione was truly in her element at the moment.

He drew his attention back to Bill when he asked, "May I have a volunteer to attempt to defend a Pangodorus Curse."

The class was silent and it seemed as if Neville was prepared to sink down into the floor to avoid being called. Just before Harry raised his hand to step forward, Bill said, "Mr. Draco Potter, please join me up here."

Loosening his tie slightly, Draco stood and stepped up onto the dueling platform at the opposite end and Bill asked him, "Are you aware of the incantations and wand movement, Mr. Potter?"

Draco nodded and returned the brief bow that Bill offered. In a split-second, Bill's wand flipped up and he yelled, "_Pangodorus_!"

A fiery red spell tore speedily through the air at Draco's chest. At the last moment, he swiped his wand across his chest and cast, "_Proaspizo_."

A streak of silvery air trailed behind the wand and the assaulting spell vanished before it reached the target.

"Well done," Bill replied with a smile across the right half of his face. "Twenty points to Slytherin."

For the next hour, Bill broke the class into pairs to practice the curses and charms of various assault spells. Hermione had mastered both spells within the first few minutes and was put against Draco after she sent Neville flying back across the room. Bill rushed over and cast several healing charms Harry had never heard before and Neville was soon sitting up and resting for a half-hour before joining again and facing against Justin Finch-Fletchley with more success this time around.

Harry decided it would be smart to have Ron do the attacking for a while, afraid of possibly repeating with another accident. They were ready to give up after 45 minutes, when Ron finally sent off an effective attack that Harry easily parried. For the successful work, Bill awarded Gryffindor with five points for each of them. They then took turns casting and had the attack and defense down solid by the closing minutes of the period. Harry nearly missed a defense when he heard Bill announce, "Miss Granger and Mr. Potter, are you casting those spells nonverbally?"

The entire class looked shockingly at the pair. Draco had reclaimed a bit of his impassive sneer and Hermione was blushing slightly. Bill awarded both Houses twenty points and proceeded to warn the remainder of the class not to move on to nonverbal unless their partner was perfectly ready to do so as well.

"Harry," Ron asked nervously. "Y—You aren't going to start, you know…"

Harry smiled at his best friend and said, "Acting like those show-offs? Nah. It's more fun saying it aloud anyway. Just feels stronger, you know?"

Ron broke into a wide smile and they continued with the lesson. By the time class was wrapping up, Harry had begun defending Ron's attacks without having to say the charm aloud though he still spoke loudly and clearly before attacking Ron. Well the bell rang to signal the end of class, the Hufflepuffs quickly exited to make the journey to Herbology class in the greenhouses. Blaise and Pansy left along with most of the Gryffindors for either a free period or their joint Charms class. Harry grabbed his bag and was ready to leave for Flitwick's classroom himself when Hermione grabbed his arm.

"Ask him about us having DA meetings," Hermione whispered.

Bill was cleaning up some knocked over and destroyed chairs and then proceeded without looking back at them into his office. Hermione nudged him forward, "Potter and I want to announce it tonight. The DA made all of them feel safer. We should start it up again. Some things are meant to last."

Harry remembered those words from Dumbledore over the summer. They had been talking about Hogwarts at the time. But maybe this was important too; part of his legacy. He nodded and marched alone into the office. This year, the office was tidy and organized with Bill's encyclopedic book collection piled everywhere. A small wooden sphinx was marching on his desk and the walls were covered in smiling faces of the Weasley family. The places of honor on his desk were a photograph of him and Fleur from the wedding and another of Molly and Arthur from their own years earlier.

"Can I help you, Harry? You and your friends are going to be late for Charms."

"Yes, well, um… Bi—Professor—"

"I think we can stick with Bill when it's just the two of us."

"Well, Bill, a couple years ago when Umbridge was… well ruining class for us, I started a club, Dumbledore's Army. And we sort of abandoned it last year, but Ron and Hermione have been bugging me about starting it up again. Not that I would mind doing it... I didn't want you to…"

"Yes, the twins told me about it," Bill interrupted. "And you're worried it'll offend me for you to start it up again."

"Right, but Hermione keeps on about it making people feel better, like they—"

"Can control the uncontrollable. Nothing wrong with that. You hold your meetings, Harry. Even if it's only a little more hope, that's something. Oh, and tell your brother to feel free to raise his hand when he knows the answer to a question."

"What makes you—"

"Well, he knew how to cast the charm well enough so he could have answered the question a moment earlier. And I saw he was reading well past this chapter over the summer. He doesn't need to walk on eggshells around me."

"Thanks, I um… better get to Charms," Harry replied as he backed out the doorway. Bill smiled kindly and waved him off. Outside the classroom, Hermione was waiting anxiously for a response, while Ron and Draco were a bit farther down the hall arguing over the Channons recent loss to the Montrose Magpies. They quieted down when they saw Harry and looked towards him.

"Well," Hermione asked. "What did he say?"

Hermione seemed to be crawling out of her skin to get an answer, while Ron looked a bit nervous and Draco appeared rather indifferent. With a bit of a smile, Harry explained, "He said yes, so I suppose you can tell the prefects."

"Excellent," Hermione exclaimed. She was already pulling Harry by the arm towards the next period. Without breaking stride or looking back, she tore onward in the one-sided conversation, "Potter, we can talk to the prefects about it tonight. We'll have postings up in all the dorms by the end of the night. Lucky, I made some flyers up after we finished cleaning at Grimmauld Place. It should be open to all students say… third year and above. I wouldn't want any of the younger ones getting hurt on accident. Plus they might feel bad if they can't keep up. We'll meet Fridays in the Room of Requirement for two hours. Now, Harry, no arguing on the schedule this time. That leaves four nights and the weekends for Quidditch practice. You should have one of us teach a catch-up course for the new members and you can take the rest on ahead. I think I could manage that. What do you think?"

"About what?" Harry replied.

"Everything I just… didn't you hear a word?" she asked and came to a stop outside the door to Flitwick's class. The bell rang to signal the start of the lesson and Harry snuck past Hermione.

"Of course I did and I agree, just a bit of fun," Harry laughed and ducked under a swat.

Charms class and the remainder of the day confirmed what Harry had already begun to guess. That seventh year was **NEWT year** and regardless of what might be happening outside the walls of the school, inside every teacher was going to be demanding a lot more this year. If OWL classes had seemed trying, then this year would be impossible. Professor Flitwick would be covering two or three different charms each period. That meant four or six every week and unless they were mastered in the period, a student would be expected to demonstrate them at the start of the next class and turn in a 10-inch scroll. Of the three charms for the first class, Hermione was the only student to perform them all perfectly; which meant a lot of students with homework, except the one who might have enjoyed it. Harry had managed to charm a coin to glow purple when touched and animate his clay figurine. But he couldn't figure out how to make a piece of parchment to burn itself when someone beside Harry touched it. Looking to his left he saw Ron only managed the coin and Draco accomplished everything except animating the small piece of clay.

He didn't feel as bad about the homework, knowing that Draco had just as much and Ron twice the amount of work due in just three days time. Herbology in the afternoon consisted of a report on the healing attributes of fibroblack weeds and they would spend the next two months cultivating them. Luckily, Harry managed to find himself paired with Neville for the assignment, since Ron stuck with Hermione and Draco took Herbology on Wednesdays. That evening after supper, he spent no time worrying about Voldemort and instead several hours reading his Defense chapter, glancing through a book Hermione had checked out of the library for him called _Fibroblack and Your Better Tomorrow_ and talking with Ginny and Ron about Quidditch tryouts that he scheduled for that Saturday.

The next day once again brought no sign of Dumbledore at any of the meals and plenty of schoolwork to distract them all from the war. Hermione seemed more frazzled than Harry or Ron had ever seen her before, including Third Year and the schedule involving the time turner. She was buried deep in her Transfiguration text, rereading the first few chapters, while nibbling on a piece of toast.

Professor McGonagall took a significant portion of the first class explaining all the work involved. While Hermione took down notes at a furious pace next to him, Harry's mind started to wander after the explanation of the weekly papers, which were not as difficult as the quarterly essays, which were smaller than the end of semester essays, none of which compared to the end of term project and report. That single assignment would rival the amount of work Harry had done in the entirety of his first few years at the school.

"The purpose of this project is not just busy work or recitation of fact," McGonagall explained. "This assignment will push you farther as witches and wizards than anything you have attempted before. In this, understanding will be as important as talent and research every bit as necessary as the raw determination."

He was teamed with Ron, who was sweating profusely at the idea of mastering one of the incredible or impossible transfigurations. Hermione had actually banged her head into her desk when she was paired with Draco. Harry and Ron agreed to discuss which transfiguration to attempt that weekend, although he was leaning towards altering personal appearances. Work with disguises was very important in Auror training. Even if he wasn't a metamorphmagus like Tonks, even some advanced concealment charms would be incredibly useful.

Noticing Hermione back to taking notes, Ron whispered, "She'll probably try something impossibly difficult and master it by mid-year."

The next period was Potions and Harry was here paired with his brother, which Slughorn thought was an incredibly good idea on his part. Harry was sure this year was going to be more difficult. Not only did he no longer have Snape's Half-Blood Prince textbook to guide him, but they would be tackling some terribly difficult potions. Despite this, his heart soared when Slughorn announced, "I won't be bogging you down with too much homework. But you had better keep up with your course book reading and in-class work, or you'll be so far behind by mid-quarter you'll never even get around to taking the NEWT exam."

Harry also realized that Hermione would forever hold his success last year against him, when Slughorn gave her the best marks in the class for her whooping cough elixir and declared his, "Adequate, but not the level of work I expect from you, Harry, my lad."

Hermione smiled to herself and undoubtedly claimed this as a great victory for hard work and perseverance. Later that afternoon, three old friends gathered in the common room of the Head's dormitory. Harry was reading his Defense book's first chapter, Hermione was already finishing her paper for the following week and Ron was thinking about supper and talking about classes.

"It's completely mental!" Ron yelled. "I mean this is our seventh year and we'll be too busy with school for any fun."

"Ron, this is the year we get pushed to our limits to see how good we really are," Hermione explained. "_The rest of our lives_ are going to depend on how we do on NEWTs. How do you not consider that fun!"

Ron gave an exaggerated groan and exclaimed, "By looking up the definition of fun!"

"Well, you and Harry have always said how much you want to be Aurors. How do you plan on doing that without good grades?"

"Charm," Ron answered with a wide grin.

"I just want to learn enough to… to stop him," Harry said glumly.

Hermione sighed and put down her book, "You can't think like that Harry. You will stop him and after Voldemort is dead and gone you have a life to live. Your friends want you to have a future Harry."

"Thanks, Hermione. I—"

The conversations in the room came to an abrupt end when the portrait door swung open and Draco entered. His cloak was in tatters and his hair was more disheveled than usual. Ron started giggling, while Hermione put a hand over her mouth before remarking, "Potter, you've really let yourself go."

"Watch it, Granger!" Draco barked as he marched toward his room.

Harry grabbed his arm and inquired, "What—"

"Damn half-giant set us after a bloody kappa! If you think I look bad you should see Longbottom. A pair of students against a four-foot tall, baby-eating monster! I swear next class it'll be a griffin or a damn sphinx."

"Hagrid was probably there to keep an eye on you, so stop whining. Just watch out for any sweet hippogriffs you might want to murder!" Hermione yelled at his retreating form.

"Stuff it, Granger," he replied and slammed his door shut. Hermione returned to her book with a scowl on her face and Ron rolled off the couch laughing himself to tears. Harry wanted to scream at all three of them. It was becoming painfully obvious that his best friends and his brother might never get along.

"He did remind me," Hermione began. "We still haven't talked to Hagrid since we got back. He loves everyone so much and losing Maxine must have been… Well, I've never even met another half-giant."

"He's just…" Harry started. "It isn't like before. This morning at breakfast he wasn't crying or anything. He just looked lost and… I mean I've never seen Hagrid really so terrified before."

"Well, let's go down after dinner," Ron said. "We can try and cheer him up and I'll bet he wants to talk about the first couple days of school. We should bring Ferret along."

Even if it was for Hagrid's benefit, Harry was glad to hear Ron willing to include him. Hermione seemed to edge her book up over her face a bit more. Harry waited a minute for her to voice an objection, then spoke up, "Good idea, Ron. Come let's put our books away before dinner."

"Can we try the secret passage?" Ron asked, already with his bag over his shoulder and standing on the first step. Harry simply nodded and gathered up his supplies. He followed Ron up the stairs and to the middle doorway. Before he followed Ron through, Harry looked down to Hermione and said, "We'll meet you at dinner. Do us a favor and ask Draco about coming to see Hagrid."

He had no sooner finished the last sentence, then he took off racing down the narrow corridor and slammed the door behind him. Hermione stared up at the doorway with a scowl before returning to her book. She soon finished the assignment due next week and packed up her bags. She quickly deposited them before walking over to Draco's door and she nearly swore that the wooden snake above it hissed at her.

After receiving no response to a tentative knock, Hermione raised her first and pounded on the door. It jerked open and Draco stood there in a new shirt and pants. He seemed to glance behind her, looking for anyone else before asking, "What?"

"I just… Harry wanted to know if you wanted to come visit Hagrid with us after dinner."

Draco ignored her and turned around. He left the door open and walked to his bed to throw on a new set of robes. Hermione took the opportunity to look around the room briefly. It was almost the same as hers. The four-poster bed had green sheets instead of red, but it was besides that identical. There was a small desk in the corner, a large dresser and stained glass window with the school crest designed on it and a small fireplace. Unlike her room, the wall against the bathroom was covered in a long, tall bookshelf. Hermione's eyes went a bit wide and started looking over the titles. Walking over to it, she slid her hand along the spines.

"Dumbledore was good enough to send along the few things from the mansion I really wanted," Draco stated when he saw her. "Mostly just clothes and part of my book collection."

Hermione read the title of a book in front of her, "_The Journal of Draco Malfoy, Volume 16_. You keep a diary?"

"Yes, Granger, I keep a _journal_. Ask Harry and I'm sure he could tell a charming story about them."

"Journals, school texts and… hmm, lots of historical texts. Have you read all of these?"

Her voice had a disbelieving tone to it, so Draco smirked a bit when he responded, "No, not all of them."

Walking over to the shelf, he picked out two books and offered them to Hermione. She tentatively took them as he explained, "Here, I've never read these. You can borrow them and finally know something I don't."

"_Finally_… sure," Hermione retorted. She looked at the two book spines and read the titles. The first was a dusty and thin book called _The Voyages of Cicero_ and the second was very thick and entitled _The Perfect Design of Hogwarts_. Hermione flipped through briefly. The rare illustrations seemed to indicate it was a book discussing the school as a piece of architecture, from the moving stairs to the dungeons that were under the shallower portions of the lake.

Fascinated, Hermione mentioned, "You know the school was mostly designed by Rowena Ravenclaw. Her journals and design books are kept on display in the Ministry. They say she was the smartest witch of all time. The Dumbledore of her day."

After taking another moment to flip through the book again, Hermione looked up at Draco and mentioned, "Harry and Ron were thinking we should all go down and see Hagrid tonight. They thought you might want to come. W... they want you to come. So will you... come?"

"Fine," Draco answered quickly and walked past Hermione. As she turned to follow him out, her hand jumped out and grabbed another book off of the shelf. The book, despite a good age, was well cared for, but obviously read often.

"Is this an original 1850 printing of _Hogwarts: A History_!" Hermione exclaimed. She frantically began flipping the pages of the text. Draco turned and smiled briefly at the excited girl. Then his eyes widened suddenly and he reached forward, ripping the book from her hands. Slamming the book shut, he looked back up and saw that not only did she make no move to keep the book, but Hermione remained frozen in place. She still held something that had been stuffed inside the book. In her hand was a small photograph. Hermione was lost looking at the picture, so much so that when she raised her head it was the first time she noticed that she was now alone. Walking out into the common room, it appeared that Draco had left the dormitory altogether.

Now it was rare that Hermione Jane Granger was at a loss for words. Even when alone, she was usually fidgeting around, reading and muttering quietly to herself. Nevertheless, here she stood alone in the middle of her common room with as confused an expression as she had ever worn, plastered on her face. With another glance downward, she stuffed the well-worn photograph of a very familiar-looking bushy-haired second year in her robe pocket and left her room in silence.

Down at dinner, Harry was sitting next to Ginny and whispering in her ear. She giggled none to loudly at something he said. Ron was sitting across from them with a disgruntled look on his face. It only grew more evident each time Ginny laughed. Finally, Ron looked like a demented troll and took a moment to shake his head and relax his features. Harry glanced up a minute later and noticed Ron was looking at Hermione with a concerned expression. Following his eyes, Harry turned to Hermione and saw that for the first time since the opening feast, she wasn't pouring over a textbook, but instead was staring off into space in a very good impression of Luna Lovegood.

"Everything alright, Hermione?"

"Hmm… Sorry what was that Ginny?" she answered.

"Well, first off I'm Harry."

"Not that you could tell for all the time those two spend stuck together," Ron remarked before swallowing a mouthful of roast beef. Ginny glared at her brother and tried to kick him under the table, but he expertly avoided the assault and continued with his meal, smiling at his cleverness.

"Hermione, what's the matter?" Ginny asked.

"Nothing," she answered quickly. "I'm… just out of sorts today. I suppose just a bit tired. How are your classes going, Gin?"

"Smooth transition, Hermione," Ron joked. He winced when this time Ginny's shoe found its target under the table.

"Classes are fine," Ginny answered. "Tomorrow's my first Defense Against the Dark Arts class. I'm a bit anxious to see Bill again. Mostly, though, I don't seem to be as nervous as I was last year. For once you weren't exaggerating how hard school was going to be when you told me about OWLs."

"Just wait for seventh year," Harry said. "It's been two days and somehow I think I'm a week behind in everything."

Harry, Ron and Ginny continued talking about classes, which was enough to break Hermione out of her stupor. By the time Harry finished his dessert, she was lecturing them on the importance of wand movement for advanced charms and concentration of purpose in transfigurations. Putting down his spoon, Harry gathered up his group and started towards the main doors. He stopped along the way to say hello to Sarah and collect Draco.

Walking down to Hagrid's hut, Ron and Ginny were walking ahead of the rest discussing how long it would be until Bill and Fleur started a family. Ginny was of the opinion they should wait until after the war, but Ron disagreed. Harry thought he was doing it mostly just to get a rise out of Ginny. Hermione was following closely after them and three times turned back and looked in Draco's direction. Seeing him trailing behind, Harry waited for him to catch up and asked, "What's going on with Hermione? Did something happen?"

"No," Draco replied curtly. "She just saw something in one of my old books that… I don't know. She'll be fine. I'll be on my best behavior Potty."

Harry was about to respond to the insulting nickname, but Ron had already reached the door and was knocking. So Harry jogged a bit to catch up with the others by the time Hagrid opened the door. Normally, the first trip to visit him every year began with a wide smile and a hearty greeting. This year, however, Hagrid nodded and motioned for them to enter.

Now while Harry, Ron and Ginny chatted up Hagrid about his classes and tried to get him involved on subjects of happier times: stories of dragons and boat rides and giant spiders, Hermione eventually found herself drawn towards the young man staring out the back window into the forest.

Blowing on her tea, she spoke quietly so only he could hear her. "I suppose its no secret it caught me off guard."

"That wasn't my—"

"Don't talk about the picture. Just… give me a reason to not hate you. That's enough for now, I think. For six years you would have loved nothing better than driving me from this school forever. Why should I offer you anything but contempt? Because you had a secret… a forbidden interest, is that the best you have? Make me care, Potter. Make me give a damn."

Taking a slow drink out of his own cup, Draco did not return her gaze. Just as Hermione was about to walk away and give up, he quietly explained, "This isn't that story. What I… what I thought I felt doesn't matter. Even if I could change who I am, how I act for someone… something else, it would just cheapen the whole thing. You're right. The prize before the effort cheapens it. You want hope… of course you do, Gryffindor and all. The best I have is the hope that… whatever road I'm stuck on will include me changing myself. Someday maybe changing into the type of person a girl in a photograph could care about… could be a friend to… could……… So there's all the hope I can offer, Granger. That I'm not who I was and I don't think I'd want to be that person again, even if I could. And even if I'm not finished becoming... whoever I am, a Potter I suppose, at least you know… a bit of where I'd like to end up. Is that enough?"

"I don't know."

"Honest at least, I see."

"Well, Gryffindor and all," she added and cracked the slightest smile before turning and walking towards a smiling half-giant exclaiming the virtues of all monsters great and small.

On the way back up to the castle, Hermione and Ginny walked further ahead of the group. Hermione still wasn't talking much, so Ginny compensated; smiling widely and going on about how lovely as usual Hermione looked this year. Of course, nothing seemed to break her out of this stupor. Ron was talking about the first Hogsmeade weekend and Draco was again trailing behind. Between worrying about his Hagrid's grief, his brother's melancholy, Hermione's very quiet and contemplative attitude and how it didn't seem as dark out when Ginny smiled, Harry missed Ron's question. A swift jab to the forearm brought him back into the moment.

"I said, 'Can I ask you a question?'" Ron repeated. Harry nodded and the taller man continued, "Well last night Dean mentioned asking Lavender to the ball. And that got me thinking—"

"You want to ask her! All you do is complain about working together as prefects!"

"What! No, I was just thinking that even if we still have a couple months until we have to worry about the bloody thing, we shouldn't wait like we did before the Yule Ball. We should ask the people we really want to go with now, before it's too late. Like Hermione said, we shouldn't keep a girl on hold expecting them to be there to fall back on. I think… I mean I know I would have had a better time if I just asked her in the first place... like I wanted to."

"Wow, Ron, I have to say I'm impressed. That's a remarkably mature decision on your part."

"Try not to sound too surprised, Harry."

"Sorry."

"It's all right. Oh, speaking of Hermione I need to ask to borrow her transfiguration notes."

Without another word, Ron raced ahead and Harry laughed to himself as Hermione turned sharply towards Ron. Even if he was out of hearing range, Harry could pretty much quote the speech by now. Lots about discipline and responsibility and how will they would ever get on without her. And Harry supposes it's all pretty much right on, so he stops to shake his head and allow Draco a chance to catch up. Some of his fondest memories from school would be watching Hermione and Ron butt heads over something silly. It was frustrating at the time, but now Harry thought it was just part of being children and growing up together. And it looked to him like Ron was finally going to grow up and ask Hermione the question he had wanted to three years ago. Harry spent so much time watching them that he didn't notice he was falling behind until Draco caught up with him.

"So, and then there was one," he joked.

"What are you on about Harry?"

"Well, you're the only one left. I'm going to ask Ginny to the dance and I think Ron's finally worked up the courage…desire, whatever to ask out Hermione. Now we just have to find you a date. I kind of doubt you want to escort Sarah, so we need to think of somebody."

"I think you might honestly be the world's worst matchmaker, Potter. Honestly, times like this I'd doubt Mum and Dad didn't accept you from a roaming band of gypsies, despite the fact that I saw the birth myself. So keep me out of any schemes. Considering the only girl I dated that's still in school is now a servant of the Dark Lord, I'm perfectly happy to take a night stag."

"Well, we could find you someone. Luna would probably saw yes. She's not judgmental like most people."

"Obviously, given her tendency to spend so much time around the Weasel."

Harry gave Draco a strong push that almost knocked him to the ground and nearly yelled, "Why do you still have to say things like that? I thought we wanted them to like you."

"Look, I may be a Potter, but I still have the right to act like a git now and again. Besides it isn't like they can hear me and if you'll begrudge me making fun of Weasley, well I may just lose my very last marble. And your little friend can give as good as he gets... well unless you count calling me a 'slimy git Ferret' constantly unoriginal."

Harry grunted in reply and hurried after the others, leaving Draco trailing behind. After he and Ron had copied Hermione's notes for Transfiguration, they turned in early. The remainder of the week seemed to drag on for an eternity. Every class was a challenge and by the time Professor Sprout dismissed them from Friday's Herbology class, Harry and Ron barely made it back up to the Gryffindor common room before collapsing on the couch. Even Hermione was dragging her feet a bit. Beyond class, she had done the late night patrols with Draco the last three nights, keeping her up past midnight. Even though she managed to complete most of her work in class (unlike Harry who had to learn a pair of charms and write the accompanying scrolls for next Tuesday), she still had to start an Ancient Runes project with Draco and a report in Arithmancy. She said the report _HAD_ to be done this weekend, which made Harry suppose it was due in about three weeks. Things were so busy that Harry had almost forgot…

"First D.A. meeting of the year tonight," Hermione reminded them as she opened her bag and pulled out a scroll. It seemed Hermione had been kept so busy with her seven NEWT classes and Head Girl duties that she still hadn't put the final touches on her study schedule for the current term.

"Ugh…" Ron moaned. "And I have to patrol with _Lavender_ afterwards. Hey, Hermione, if I call off does that mean Ferret can go in my place."

"Well, first of all, Ronald, you can't call off because I know you aren't ill. And secondly, as a seventh year prefect you should be working _harder_ to set a better example for the others."

"Oh, come on, Hermione. Let _him_ lend a hand. I know you covered for Hannah this week."

"Her cauldron exploded and she was in the hospital wing all night. I don't think your lack of enthusiasm for your job quite measures up to that. Besides, Potter covered for Peter Whistler from Ravenclaw last night. Remember you only have to patrol 2 nights a week, while _we_ are lucky to get two nights a week off."

"Fine," Ron muttered, sinking even lower into the couch cushions. "You know, you defend him almost as much as Harry nowadays. Getting rather hard to hate the Ferret in our little group."

"Good," Harry added without opening his eyes.

"I'm not defending him!" Hermione yelled, her face deeply pink and on it's way towards red.

"Geez, relax Hermione, even I have to admit he's loads better," Ron replied.

"Thanks, Ron, you always were a right good mate," Harry said with a wide smile, though he still lacked the energy open his eyes and look at them.

"Course, I'd like him a bit better if he did my patrol tonight. It's just a bit after the DA meeting. Say think he'll be there?"

"We could always just grab him after dinner. He shouldn't be busy."

"What about Quidditch?"

"Slytherin tryouts were last night," Ginny replied as she came bounding in the portrait opening. No sooner than she saw a nearly napping Harry then she ran over and plopped on his chest, jolting him awake. "Hey, Harry."

Harry found listening to Ron and Hermione argue was not nearly as effective a way to wake him up as Ginny crawling around on him and kissing him. Sitting up straighter, he slid Ginny off his chest and into his lap. In between kisses, he forced out, "How… do you… know that?"

"Watched. Demelza, Marie and I… went down to check out the… competition."

"Who's Marie… and stop that," Ron said.

Ginny stopped kissing Harry's lips and after planting a quick one on his nose turned and answered Ron, "Marie Simmons, she's a fourth year planning to come out for Chaser. She was the one suggested watching the Slytherin try-outs, mostly just to make friends with a couple of returning players I bet. That reminds me… I didn't even… Harry, did Draco tell you?"

"Tell me what?"

"They didn't make him Captain of the team. He's the only player left over fifth year and the best they have and they gave it to a fourth year. It's Marcus Flint's little brother, Thomas. Supposedly he was hand-picked by Zabini and the House demanded him for captain. He actually had Draco running laps and try out for Seeker."

"He's still on the team, isn't he?" Harry was a bit worried at the near unprecedented slighting.

"Despite everything just barely," Ginny explained. "Slughorn showed up and started ranting to the little Flint about how Draco was their best chance for the House Cup this year. So he's on the team, but…"

"But what?" Ron asked.

Ginny took a second to stand up before finishing, "Well, the rest of the team is rather patched together, so unless Draco beats Harry to the snitch in the first half-hour, we shouldn't have any problems running up the score."

"Grand," Ron agreed. "That means we have a clear run to a perfect season and the House Cup. I bloody can't wait for the first match."

As Ginny and Ron started down towards dinner, Hermione marked her place in the book she had been reading. Harry glanced down at it and asked, "_The Perfect Design of Hogwarts_, what class is that for?"

"None," Hermione said quickly as she slammed the thick volume shut. "It's just a bit of light reading, you know for fun."

"Um… not really," Harry added just before leading her out the portrait and down to dinner.

Down in the main hall, they noticed that Hagrid seemed to be a bit more open, talking quietly with Bill and Fleur. It was also only the third meal since the opening feast where Professor Dumbledore was in attendance. Harry tried to catch his eye most of the night, but never quite managed it. However, he did receive a kindly nod from Bill as Hermione dragged them all, including Draco, off to set-up the Room of Requirement.

The room was now even larger than it had been two years ago. Hermione had told them to expect a larger crowd now that the group wasn't secret anymore. Hermione and Ron quickly hung up the parchment with the original member's signatures. Harry paced off to the far side of the room, waving his wand back and forth a bit nervously. Draco was about to comment on his nerves when Ginny asked him, "Help me with this, Draco."

"What the hell is that?" Draco asked as she continued pulling a large white cloth out of her book-bag.

Grabbing what looked to be a corner, Draco walked backwards until sprawled out on the floor was a massive flag. A crest in the center held the initials, "D.A." in a neat scripting and along the bottom enchanted beasts moved around looking up at them. From left to right, the lion, badger, eagle and snake from the Hogwarts crest moved around anxiously awaiting something to entertain them.

"Luna and I made it," Ginny explained. "Since we're an official organization now, it seemed only right we have our own flag. Help me hang it over there."

A few minutes later the large flag was strung up on the southern wall and the first tentative arrivals began filing into the room. By the time seven o'clock came around, the room was jammed full with just about 90 students. The group included the eight remaining members of Harry's Gryffindor class and every other prefect except the Slytherins. After waiting another ten minutes, Harry noticed that his brother was still the only member of that House in attendance. That is until he nodded to Hermione to start and the door opened one final time. Sarah and her group of six other first and second year Slytherin students entered along with five other students from the other Houses, all just as young.

Hermione leaned over and whispered to Harry, "I thought we agreed no students that young were going to be allowed to join."

"Well, I suppose they had other ideas," Harry replied with a wide smile. "I think they deserve something for the initiative. We should let them stay."

"Besides they are obviously very brave," Ron mentioned. "Standing up to the rules of the big, scary Head Girl and all."

Hermione glared at Ron a moment before raising her voice and announcing, "Welcome, everyone to the first weekly meeting of Dumbledore's Army, or the D.A. for short. This will be a supplemental practical defense club instructed by Mr. Harry Potter."

She paused for a minute while a firm round of applause filled the room. Joining in the effort to turn Harry an unusual shade of violet, Hermione continued, "I hope you are all as excited as us to helping make Hogwarts a more prepared and safer place to learn. For the first few weeks, we will break into a couple of different groups. All of our returning members whose signatures are on the original membership role please join Harry at the far front of the room. All new members please make sure you sign in one of the scrolls on your way out, so we can put together an official roster. Every new member over fourth year, please join me to the far right and those fourth year and younger please join Mr. Weasley over to the left."

As the students began moving to their areas, Ron whispered, "What is that about! I'm no teacher. What were you—"

"Relax, Ron, just start showing them the Shield Charm and see how many of them can get it by the end of class," Hermione explained.

While Harry had his group line up and practice sending nonverbal hexes at the back wall. Ron walked amongst the younger students demonstrating the charm and excitedly congratulating those that did it. Hermione had her group attempting to cast the Patronus Charm. Just before nine o'clock, Harry was congratulating Neville on his work when Hermione raised her voice over the others with Sonorus. "Everyone! That will be all for tonight! Please sign the roll sheets on your way out and we'll see you next week!"

As the room began to clear, Ron and Hermione, accompanied by her otter patronus, walked over to Harry and looked around. Most of the students were filing out. Draco was escorting the younger Slytherins down to the dungeons. Leading the way were Sarah and Mary, giggling and casting "_Protego!_" even without anything to be protected from. Luna and Ginny were chatting off to the side waiting for them to finish up.

"Well, how did your groups do?" Harry asked. "A few of mine are actually getting a handle on the weakest nonverbal spells. Neville is actually moving along quite spectacularly."

"No fully developed patronus tonight, but Potter and a couple of the others came pretty close," Hermione explained. "I thought he had it for a moment. I mean I could see the outline and it was obviously a snake."

"Well if you spent most of your life with the Malfoys would you have a lot of happy memories?" Ron asked rhetorically. "But I'll tell you, those younger ones were darn good. Almost every single one of them could cast the shield charm by the end. Still awful little buggers though."

"Ron, there are plenty of sixth years in the school that look like 'little buggers' compared to you," Hermione joked. She then excused herself and went to talk with Ginny and Luna.

Ron leaned close to Harry's ear and whispered, "I'm going to ask her tonight. You should ask Ginny, too."

Harry nodded and watched Ron walk off. He definitely wanted to see Ron finally ask out Hermione after years of not getting around to it. His view was quickly obstructed by a flash of red and smiles and Ginny was soon standing in front of him with her arms crossed in front of her. She asked, "And what are you smiling about there Mister Potter?"

"Nothing," Harry answered. In truth, he hadn't actually been aware he was smiling until that very moment. Harry did his best to erase the treacherous look from his face, but it only flared up when Ginny leaned forward for a quick kiss, whispering, "Good class, Professor Potter."

When they separated, Harry moved to look past her again to see Hermione and Ron, but found only Hermione tying up her school bag and throwing it over her shoulder.

"Where'd Ron go?" Harry asked.

Hermione glanced up and answered, "He offered to walk Luna back to the Ravenclaw Tower. I'll see you both in the morning."

As Hermione made her farewell, Ginny began pulling Harry towards the door and then back down the hall towards their own dormitory. Harry was quite puzzled on why Ron would walk Luna back instead of asking Hermione out, but then Harry got it.

"He asked the one he wanted."

"What's that, Harry?"

"Ron, he's asking Luna to come to the dance with him. I just realized it."

"Just realized? He's been building up the courage to ask her out since June. Where have you been?"

"Apparently, not paying close enough attention."

"Well, that's why you're lucky to have me around. And speaking of dances, Mister, isn't there something you wanted to ask a certain Gryffindor?"

Harry pulled out his most evil Draco smirk and said, "Yeah, now where is Parvati…"

Ginny's punch to the gut knocked the wind out of Harry and he nearly buckled over. Before he looked back up at her face, he considered removing his glasses. Instead she simply leaned closer with a sly smile and said, "You can't pull off _evil git_ as well as him so don't even try. Now, I expect a proper invitation to be presented sometime this weekend. And any more smart cracks and I'm asking… let's see… how about _your brother_? Yes, that could be lovely."

Harry's red face paled immediately and he mumbled, "Yes, Gin."

With that they quietly walked back to the portrait of the Fat Lady, but just before they got there, Harry released a breath he wasn't aware he had been holding when Ginny clasped his hand and intertwined their fingers. Maybe he should warn Luna of the dangers of messing with the affections of a Weasley, but thought better of saying something about it. Especially around Ginny.


	13. Traitors and Consequences

**CHAPTER TWELVE: Traitors and Consequences**

Throughout the next month, Hogwarts seemed to adjust to the harsh times and resume its ancient routine of lessons and activities. Even Hagrid began to seem more his normal self. A point mentioned when Draco animatedly explained the giant bee he had them working with one Thursday afternoon. Amidst everything going on in the wizarding world, Harry found school routines (things like Quidditch practice and Transfiguration exams) a welcome change of pace.

In the morning edition of the _Daily Prophet_, Hermione read them aloud every day the latest news of the war. Since the attack on Beauxbatons, it was generally agreed that Voldemort and his forces were working their way through Europe, attacking muggles and gaining new recruits before returning to launch any more attacks in England. Just the other day, it was learned of a muggle train arriving in Rome with an entire passenger car filled with two-dozen bodies with no identifiable cause of death.

Despite his difficult course schedule, Quidditch practice and DA meetings, Harry still found enough time to sit in the Gryffindor common room in his favorite chair and wish he was out there and doing something, _anything_, to bring this all to an end. But Dumbledore insisted he was working on locating the Horcruxes and discovering the identity of the Ravenclaw heirloom. Harry didn't know whether he should be worried or comforted by Dumbledore's increased absences from meals. Hermione and Ron both worked hard to occupy his mind with more pleasant thoughts. In Hermione's case, she tried discussing their coursework, but while Harry admitted this was distracting, it wasn't very enjoyable. Ron was constantly going on about Quidditch and the first match against Slytherin scheduled for just before the Ball in a couple more weeks.

Draco and Ginny didn't try much to distract Harry. Ginny would spend some evenings curled up on a couch just sitting looking into the fireplace or reading something to Harry. He enjoyed these quiet moments in a way different from all the others. Just being with her, not trying to forget the terrible things happening in the world, but just living in it was a welcome respite. Draco, it seemed was content to not dwell on what he couldn't control. More than the rest, he seemed to be just as depressed as Harry.

For the first time in his seven years at Hogwarts, Draco finally found himself truly and completely an outsider. Distrusted among most of the houses, it was common knowledge that any Gryffindor, Ravenclaw of Hufflepuff that needed help with something took their concerns to the Head _Girl_. The few students Draco had come to him for help were the youngest of his own House, no doubt under the directions of Sarah and Mary, the immediate undisputed leaders of the first year Slytherins. Having never been humiliated by a cruel Draco Malfoy, they saw no reason to distrust Draco Potter. Thanks to a few pureblooded holdouts, the youngest students of the House were split between respecting and hating him. The young girls didn't get dragged into the worries of the War; far too excited with far more interesting things like changing feathers into inkwells and making potions to cure the world of boils. They seemed to be going through first year as giddy as… well, as schoolgirls.

The other student that met regularly with him was young Gabrielle Delacour, who was meeting to improve her English. She had learned enough from Fleur and Bill to be able to converse with other students that were willing to take their time with her. There was little chance, however, that she could keep up with her textbooks without help. Ron joked that it had better be a different type of tutoring than Bill and Fleur were doing. Given the fact that they both met with Draco often enough it wasn't long until Gabrielle and the Slytherin girls made each other's acquaintance.

"Hezo, 'Erminy. Hezo, Draco," Gabrielle greeted in her same dull monotone and a sad smile, when Hermione opened the door to the Head's common room. Normally in the past, this room had been off-limits and private with Head students meeting students in other locations. Hermione had quickly done away with this practice, insisting students should feel free to come and knock anytime they needed her.

"Hello, Gabrielle," Hermione replied with a welcoming smile. "How are you today?"

"I am fine. I am getting uzad to sleeping in ze dorms, but I miz Fleur and Beel."

Hermione wrapped her arm around the small girl's shoulder and leading her to the chairs and table in front of the fireplace that they had been using as an impromptu study area. Draco looked up and nodded to the girl in greeting and the two excited Slytherin girls looked up from their potions textbooks.

"Hello, you're Gabrielle, right? I'm Sarah and this is my best friend, Mary."

"Hi, we sit across from you in charms," Mary commented, extending her hand.

Slowly, the young French girl reached out and gently shook it. With Gabrielle remaining quiet, Hermione explained, "Gabrielle is here to study English with Draco, why don't I help you girls with your potions assignment?"

"No thanks, we've mostly figured it out what we did wrong," Mary explained.

"Just think if we'd have added ragweed instead of ragwort, the flames would have been even grander…" Sarah mused.

"That wouldn't do," Mary replied. "Sluggy would have passed right out if it had been any bigger."

"Professor Slughorn," Hermione corrected.

The two girls merely giggled and began collecting their books and standing to leave. Draco leaned forward and whispered something in Sarah's ear. As Gabrielle sat down and opened her English book, Mary and Sarah started past her but stopped and Sarah asked, "Would you like to sit with us in Charms tomorrow?"

"Um… vell zu are in a diffarant 'ouze zan me and—"

"Oh, that's no problem," Sarah commented. "Draco and Hermione work together in Ancient Runes and their in different Houses. We could have so much fun!"

"It really is the best class," Mary agreed. "Flitter lets us experiment so much."

"Professor Flitwick," Hermione corrected again.

"Vell I suppose," Gabrielle replied tentatively. At this Sarah immediately hopped in the air and quickly hugged the startled French girl.

Just before the reached the portrait door, Sarah turned and offered an obvious wink in Draco's direction that Hermione caught. She looked at her counterpart contemplatively for a moment, when he bit out, "We are trying to work here, Granger. Couldn't you go gawk foolishly at one of your… I don't know… friends? Merlin, woman!"

Aside from a small group of younger students, Slytherins were quite unsure of their former leader. Pansy and Blaise were at the forefront of the group that outright hated Draco. In three months, he had gone from their unquestioned figurehead to a blood traitor and brother of the Slytherin House's greatest enemy.

There were dreadful stories of Slytherin Quidditch practices that generally involved Draco running laps and dodging attacks from his own beaters. Ron remarked that the boy was just too stubborn to quit and make life easier on himself. But even Hermione admitted she was impressed with the lack of complaining from the normally whinny Draco. His courses, Quidditch, patrols, meetings and other Head duties and DA meetings; he bore them all quietly and if Harry didn't make the effort, he feared his brother would slip into some self-imposed isolation. Hermione reported that the Head Boy was sleeping little, staying awake silently reading in the corner of their common room. It was obvious that if something did not change a breaking point would soon be reached. Ron not so quietly suggested that he _not _be the one to confront Draco about the problem.

Still the days bled together into weeks and just as October was racing by, two decisive events in the second great magical war of the 20th century took place. One would eventually lead to the destruction of two individuals and immeasurable pain and grief for all those who loved them. Another would create a strong blow against Voldemort's plans and give his opponents valuable new methods of standing up against the forces of evil. Coincidentally, the starting points for both these events occurred in the library of Hogwarts on the exact same Thursday.

The first of these events took place when Draco Potter swallowed a very big lump in his throat and sat down next to Hermione Granger, a girl so involved with completing her Transfiguration homework before the library closed that it was several minutes and a cleared throat before she realized that she had company at her table back near the Restricted Section. In truth, Hermione never heard him approach, so used to being left alone for long hours in what she considered her special hidden corner.

"Oh, was there something you wanted, Potter?" she asked, her tone giving away a small bit of the nervousness she felt, being cornered alone with her former enemy.

"Yes," he replied. "It's quite important too, Granger. But should anyone ask you, I'd suggest just telling him or her that we're working on our transfiguration project. It won't be a complete and utter lie, well only sort of, and is far less risky than the truth."

Quirking an eyebrow upward, Hermione closed her book to observe the young man across from her with a false cocky grin. She asked, "And just what are you planning to do with me that's such a terrible secret?"

Rather than answering, Draco shoved one of his journals forward on the table in front of her. Seeing the intense young man nod his permission, Hermione turned to the title page of the book. Instead of listing that it was the _Journal of Draco Potter or Malfoy, Volume Some Insanely Large Number_, Hermione instead read the title of the book aloud, "The Secret Hogwarts Heads Projects – Authorized Eyes Only"

"It's charmed so only the two of us can read it. I can make more, since I suspect this will all be rather involved. Though I loathe to admit it, I can't work on certain… let's call them extra-curricular activities… as well as keep up with my classes, Quidditch, DA meetings and any fun little adventures Dumbledore sends our way. And of all the people I could take this to…"

Seeing he would not finish his thought without some prompting, Hermione realized it might just be some off-handed compliment on the tip of his lips. She leaned forward and whispered, "Go on Potter. Say it."

"Well… in addition to being able to keep a secret, even from Harry and Weaselbee—"

"How did you—"

"The Time-Turner in third year."

"Wh—"

"Dumbledore."

"When did he—"

"Over the summer."

"Why—"

"To show that he trusts me, to bring me into Harry's world a bit more, maybe he just was thinking about some delicious sugary confection he had the night before and let it slip. Honestly, I don't think any of us will perfect the reading of all that man's motives. Something beyond even my considerable talents."

"What does that have to—"

"Do you want me to explain it or not?" Draco replied. He leaned back and his cocky smirk grew a bit more confident. Grimacing Hermione nodded and Draco leaned forward again and whispered, "In addition to keeping a secret, and given what I'm suggesting that will be crucial. Especially considering I have no desire to return to Azkaban ever again, let alone as a resident. I'm sure you'll agree you don't either. But you are… in fact… just… the… bloody hell, the only witch in this school short of McGonagall who is smart enough to do this."

Draco had gotten the last part out all in one quick breath and then frowned slightly, as if the opinion he offered was one he would have much preferred her never to know. Hermione was so shocked over the comment, she had to catch herself grinning stupidly at the idea. Coughing away her smile, Hermione asked, "So let's say I'm interested. What exactly are you planning?"

Raising a finger to his lips, Draco directed her eyes downward with a glance. Reaching across the table, he turned the page. Hermione silently read the list of projects before rubbing her temples. She continued this motion for nearly a minute before she offered any response. "ARE YOU INSAN—"

The rest of Hermione's rather involved critiquing of Draco's plan was mumbled as he held his palm flush against her rapidly moving lips. He soon grabbed the back of her neck with his other hand and pulled her closer. "Hush, Granger."

Calming, she took several deep gasps of air while Draco was wiping a damp hand on the bottom of his robes.

"You—y—you-you, for heavens sake Potter. Do you realize how difficult this is? How beyond our abilities? How dangerous? I mean more than half this list could end up with both of us ripped into bloody pieces or destroyed outright. Trained witches and wizards DIE attempting things like this. How completely and utterly illegal? I knew it… I was worried about it all the way back in first year. For awhile there I was sure it was Ron or Harry that would lead me to my doom. But it's all your fault. This is the worst possible thing ever. I'm going to be expelled."

Hermione's head dropped with a sharp thud on the book in front of her. The dull ache soon faded and she looked Draco in the eyes, her decision already made.

"Look Granger, there's nobody else, or I wouldn't think to involve the queen bee of goody-goodies here at Hogwarts in it. And we won't die, you're just being dramatic there and as for… You know… Hey, expulsion sort of infers that you're going to…"

"I am," she agreed. "This could end up making a real difference, but I need to know something. Why would YOU of all people try—"

Draco silenced her with a look and, slamming his eyes shut first, explained, "You may not trust me to die for you or your friends Granger. Actually, a good deduction on your part. But… that brother of mine is… all I have in this world apart from the memories of my dead parents. He's the last inch that is mine; that is me. So here I am, holding onto the last inch. If we can do something to… anything to ensure he doesn't make a martyr of himself being all noble and world-saving, then I think it's worth our time."

Finding herself once more uncomfortably humbled by her former adversary, Hermione tried to offer a reassuring smile. She spoke very quietly, in her _can't get caught scheming in the library_ voice, "You're right, absolutely. And we can't tell ANYONE. Where do you want to start?"

Slightly louder, he replied, "Well first, Miss Head Girl and Most Trustworthy of All Hogwarts Students, you need to get us unfettered access to the Restricted Section. Most of our work will require at least a few… less savory texts."

"Well, Miss Pince does trust me, but it would be a betrayal of faith and a dereliction of duty to—"

"Just betray, Granger. Betray away. Especially, since you know as well as I do that there's just no way around it. Next, we'll need to start using our little secret passage to get from our dorm to the library. Your librarian friend might start figuring out what's going on if we check out certain books."

"NO. No, no, no, no. I will not… not steal books from a library. It's just wrong. It's incorrigible and a misuse of school property and unforgivable and rude and—"

"Necessary," Draco finished. Seeing Hermione unsure and undefeated in her crusade on behalf of inanimate objects, he continued, "I know it abhors you, but sometimes bad means are needed to reach good ends. You aren't just a Gryffindor anymore. You're the Head Girl for the entire school. This is an adult decision and the… another reason it had to be you… You're the only one I trust to do it just for the right reasons and not for yourself."

"All right, I'm in. I'll talk to Pince about a key for the Restricted Section now. She won't give it easily."

"Certainly not to me or any other student, but you're well-liked, trusted and an adult. Just be confident, you aren't some whiny third year. Now, I'll meet you in a minute. I wanted to grab a book on legilimancy and dreams for Harry's training. I imagine you'll want to write up some annoyingly detailed schedule to incorporate our little…"

"_Transfiguration project_? Yes, I would in fact. Do you have a problem with that, Potter?"

Grinning, he answered, "Several, but it might be better to list my reasons in private. Wouldn't want my descriptiveness to offend any younger students who might be nearby."

"Well, don't forget, patrol in less than an hour," Hermione sternly reminded.

"Perish the thought, Granger. Perish it straight to hell."

The second of the monumental actions of the day were first revealed to Draco and Hermione mere moments later. Shortly after receiving a very stern lecture on responsibility and how she wouldn't give this key to any other student, Miss Pince mentioned a rather rare volume checked out earlier that day. Surely, the studiousness of the Head Girl was rubbing off on her friends at long last. The same conclusion was apparent to Draco, when for the second time he scanned past every title in the shelf he stood before. Such a subject was not being covered in any class currently and there was only one or two people in the entire school who would have the interest or need to read that particular book. He then thought, _is my brother really THAT stupid with a hero-complex THAT large_.

The resounded positive answer was verbalized when two normally quiet students ran down the library halls at full speed, their stampeding footsteps echoing throughout the chamber. They met in the middle of the library main hall and with Hermione slightly shocked, Draco got out the first word.

"Harry—"

"Checked out a book on Legilimency contact through dreams."

"Do you have the password to Gryffindor Tower?"

"No, they—"

Hermione never got out her sentence as Draco took off again in the opposite direction. She almost immediately recognized his plan and ran after him; through the secret portrait only they could access, up the corridor, down the hallway not even as wide as Draco and up the winding steep stairs of their own tower. By the time she exited, her companion had already thrown open the doorway to his brother's dorm and together they raced down this final stretch. About halfway through to a distant light, they felt a stiff breeze blasting them forward and transporting them to a hallway that led out into the Gryffindor boy's dormitory.

Draco ripped open the sheets surrounding the two closest beds, nearly earning a jinx from Dean and Seamus, who were not expecting the Slytherin Head Boy to charge into the middle of their discussion of the English football team and their chances in the next muggle World Cup. The enraged Potter also succeeded in almost scaring Neville out of his Herbology textbook and into a coma. It was Hermione who marched straight to Harry's normal place in the dorms and whipped open the covers to reveal a sleeping, jittering Harry Potter.

"Dean, go get Ron. Seamus, Neville, we need Madam Pomfrey and Professor Dumbledore right away!" Hermione's tone left no room for discussion and the boys bolted out the door and down towards the common room, taking two or three steps at a time. "We don't know what he's done."

"Of course we do," Draco spoke up, his tone argumentative where Hermione's was sincere. "The great Harry Potter decided to check out a book about casting legilimancy through his dreams. And here he is unconscious and it isn't even eleven o'clock. I don't know about you Granger, but I have a pretty bleeding good idea about what's happening!"

"Stop screaming at me! We don't know what will happen if we disturb him. We can't just wake him up."

"Oh yes, we bloody can!" As Draco advanced on Harry, Hermione's hand quickly pulled her wand from her robes.

With jittery arms, she pointed it straight at Draco's chest and spoke softly, fear breaking into her voice, "Just wait for Dumbledore. I know you want him awake. So do I, but if he—"

Draco interrupted, defeat bleeding though his voice, "Yeah. I know. We wait. But if he lives, I'll kill him."

Ron came through the door and seeing Harry nearly thrashing around on his bed, was on him in an instant, shaking him roughly.

"Ron!

"Weasley!"

"Harry! Harry, wake up! Wake—"

Ron's yelling was cut off mid-sentence as Hermione's stunning spell smacked him in the back of the head. A couple of minutes later, when his eyes had stopped wildly bouncing back and forth, Hermione released him and sat down next to him on Harry's left, holding the taller boy's shoulder fiercely and holding back her own tears.

Draco stood against the far wall, eyeing the three of them closely. Silently, he prayed for Harry to sit-up, tell them it was all a joke and he was only pretending. Only scaring them into thinking he did something Draco considered monumentally foolish. But unfortunately, Harry had checked out _Legilimancy of the Subconcious_ that very morning and spent the entire afternoon in his bed reading through it. Even Ron stayed clear, having believed the story that his best friend needed privacy to draw up the final Quidditch strategy for the season opening match just two weeks out. Now, the seventh year boy's dorm at Hogwarts was occupied by Harry's closest friends, terrified of losing him.

Ron was quietly berating himself for trusting and abandoning Harry. He was absolutely certain that he should have seen through the lie. They had spent more time together than any other pair of students in the last six years. Regardless of whether or not his friend woke up, Ron Weasley would never see this as anything other than a tremendous failure on his part to protect his friend. _I should have kept him safe._

Hermione felt a slight guilt on her own. Perhaps, she theorized, she had been too distant and involved in schoolwork and her duties to the students and school to recognize how desperate Harry must have been to make a difference. All he ever talked about, it seemed, was being able to do something to help stop Voldemort. The analytical forces of her mind started contemplating the idea of a war without Harry. The seeming impossibility of going onward without him. The headmaster thought it was Harry's destiny was to defeat Voldemort in some Final Battle. Even if she didn't quite buy the idea of fate, even the independent-minded Hermione Granger saw only failure without someone as inherently good and honest as Harry to fight back the darkness. _I have to think of something._

Draco, sitting in his corner, discovered how much he came to need the young man he had until such a short time ago, hated beyond reason. The idea of going on without Harry wasn't even an idea he could force into being, let alone stomach. It wasn't a matter of losing the last of his family or a dear friend or a ally. At the end of the day, he knew he would never be Draco Malfoy again. But he couldn't just be Draco Potter. It was Draco and Harry; the Potters. The idea of anything else being true was inconceivable. Life wouldn't be hard without him, it JUST COULDN'T BE! _I should have told him what he means to me._

The thoughts of all three students were interrupted when Dumbledore burst through the doorway and quickly sat down on Harry's right side. Hermione forced out some word first, "Sir, can you—"

"I will try, Miss Granger. I will try," he answered.

Closing his own eyes, Dumbledore placed his left hand on Harry's cheek and almost immediately gasped in pain. His entire body tensed and rivers of tears began flowing from his eyes. The tall young man beneath him stopped shaking, but Ron and Hermione clutched at one another as a distinct rivulet of blood flowed from Harry's nose and down his cheek onto the red pillow below. Finally the headmaster let out a terrible and deep howl that scared those present in a way they never had been until this day. Only a quick move from Draco prevented the older (and for the first time since they had met him, he truly seemed terribly old) man from falling to the floor. Laying him on Ron's bed, Draco watched as both wizards calmed their erratic movements and breathed easier.

The first to awaken was Dumbledore, who flew up like a bolt into a sitting position, but rose no further. Taking a couple deep breaths, the headmaster spoke in a near whisper, "I believe Harry may safely be awoken now. If you would, Miss Granger."

Nodding slowly, Hermione pointed her wand at the now-peaceful Harry and spoke clearly and with conviction, "_Ennervate_."

As Harry's eyes fluttered open, Ron fell forward clutching his friend. Hermione stood and braced herself against the wall unable to even look in Harry's direction. Harry looked over Ron's shoulder and over to Dumbledore and whispered, "sorry… I'm sorry… I—"

"Oh, we'll be discussing your supreme idiocy later, Potter," Draco said in a quick, cruel tone he hadn't used in some time now.

"Now… need to… I saw…"

"Be cautious, Harry," Dumbledore warned from his position on Ron's bed. "Voldemort has deceived you before. We must not take anything foregranted."

"Sir, I… he hadn't found out I was watching him yet," Harry explained. "When he felt me he… well I knew it. He had already sent Pettigrew off."

"Where was he sent Harry?"

"To… to the Ministry. To contact a spy. It will be... someone meeting with him on Basement Level One."

"We'll go," came a voice from the doorway. It was Remus, accompanying Bill through the doorway. The former-Defense teacher looked sympathetically at Harry and continued, "But don't think we won't be discussing this in the near future, Harry."

"I just wanted to… I needed to do something to help."

"You shouldn't… Harry we cannot risk you so foolishly," Bill explained. "You need to trust those of us around you to carry out some things. This was incredibly—"

"Stupid," Draco finished, glaring at his brother.

"But also perhaps lucky," Dumbledore offered with a smile to Harry. "Bill, I'm afraid Hogwarts will need you to watch over it for the night. The effort to… I would not be able to stand alone if Voldemort wanted to press an advantage against the school at this time."

"Yes, sir. I'll stay. Let me help you to your quarters and we'll have some elves wake the other teachers to keep the guard for the night."

"Potter and I will find Anthony and Padma and start our patrol early," Hermione offered.

"I don't think—" Bill began only to be interrupted by Dumbledore, who shakily stood up.

"That will be very helpful, Miss Granger. But don't forget to alert a professor if you see anything out of the ordinary."

Hermione stood up straight and after grasping Harry's hand for a moment, walked out the doorway to the Gryffindor common room. Draco trailed after her slowly, stopping before his brother and staring at him for a moment. Drawing in a slow breath, he spoke. "If this is what I have to look forward to working on your side I'll quit tonight. The world isn't on your shoulders. Stop being a fool or I'll end our relationship here and now. Understand?"

"I was—"

"Yes or no?"

"Draco—"

"Yes or no, Harry?" Ron questioned, pulling away from his best friend. "It's the four of us or none of us from here on out. You do something this… this stupid and gitty again and we'll go on without you."

Looking between his two friends… brothers, Harry bit down his shame and answered sheepishly, "Yes, I promise."

Without another word, Draco turned quickly and walked down to the common room after Hermione. Ron took the spot Dumbledore had recently vacated on his bed and watched Harry with concern and tears in his eyes. Remus was speaking softly in near the doorway with Dumbledore.

"I'll get to Arthur's," the werewolf whispered. "He can get me into the ministry and probably onto Level One without too much trouble, given the late hour there won't be that many possibilities there to meet him."

Dumbledore nodded his approval and added, "Bill, let's off to my office. I shall have Everard move to the portrait in the Ministry and begin the search without drawing any unnecessary attention. We must catch both our rat and Voldemort's. If what Harry tells us is true, Pettigrew has been close to Voldemort as any the last several years. I must speak with him before he is turned over to the Ministry."

"Of course, but afterwards… sir, he must answer for James and Lily," Remus insisted.

"I am certain he shall Remus. That fate is one I am certain he cannot escape for much longer. Now, we should all be off with haste." Speaking louder, he announced, "Harry, that will be ten points from Gryffindor for improper use of school textbooks and Remus and Draco were correct. We _will_ have a long conversation about this in the morning. Report to my office before your first class, please."

"yes, professor," Harry responded in hushed tones. When the older men left, Harry turned on his side, facing away from Ron and continuing, "I just wanted to help. If we catch Wormtail, it'll be worth it. He can finally pay for everything. Sirius' name will be officially cleared."

Ron laid back in his own bed and stared up at the ceiling, replying, "Remus and Dad will get him. Everything will be fine."

The next morning, the two of them walked down from Gryffindor Tower with Ginny holding Harry's hand and Neville trying to draw Ron into a conversation about what happened the night before. The entire group silenced when they came upon Professor McGonagall, Draco and Hermione standing near the door to the Great Hall, apparently waiting for them. McGonagall's grimace was even tighter than usual, causing Harry's stomach to wind itself into a firm knot and his pace to hit a dead stop. The witch walked up to their group, the two Heads obediently following behind her.

Without greeting, McGonagall instructed them, "There is an urgent matter Professor Dumbledore needs to discuss with you… with all of you. Mr. Longbottom, please continue with your breakfast. The rest of you follow me."

A quick pace down the halls was set in short order. Harry leaned over and whispered to Draco, "Why does he want to see everyone, I thought—"

"I don't know," Draco interrupted. "We got down here only a minute ago. She just said we needed to wait to you and the Weasleys."

All the students were thoroughly confused as to why all of them were required for this meeting. Harry assumed it had something to do with the capture of Pettigrew last night. The morning had an ominous feeling to it with thick, dark storm clouds overhead since well before sunrise. The drenching rain battered on the roofs and even the giant squid had retreated to the bottom of the lake and more serene depths. It was a miserable day at Hogwarts and as soon as McGonagall moved out of the way and revealed the occupants of the headmaster's office, Harry knew the day would offer no improvements.

McGonagall motioned the students past her and into the room. Dumbledore sat behind his desk, offering only a sorrowful and worrisome expression. In all their years of friendship, Harry had seen his mentor so distraught only once before. Something went very wrong. Bill Weasley stood off by the far left of the room, gazing out the window. His face hidden, his back was rigid and tense. A moment later, Dumbledore managed a sad smile and spoke up, "Thank you, Minerva. If you will excuse us."

McGonagall left, closing the door quickly behind her, slamming it almost. Standing at the back of the group, Draco could almost swear he heard a sob from the other side. Dumbledore waved his hand and several chairs and couches appeared in the middle of his office. At his motioning, the five students sat looking anxiously at him. The fear in the room was almost palpable at whatever news was coming. Harry and Ginny were on the couch looking directly at the headmaster's desk. Hermione had crossed them to sit near the window. Draco chose to remain standing in-between Harry on the couch and Ron, who was fiddling with his thumbs silently.

Dumbledore tentatively began to spoke, "I wanted to thank you all for com—"

"What happened?" It could not be said that Draco, as a Malfoy or a Potter, was a patient person. Instead pushing directly to the heart of the matter.

Before he could be chastised by either of the professors, Ginny interrupted on his behalf, "He's right. We all know we're here because… something… j-just tell us. Please, Professor."

"Very well," Dumbledore agreed. "Bill, shall I…"

"No, it's my responsibility," Bill decided. As her turned around, the streaks of tears burned paths down his face and the jovial man looked more distraught than he had after awakening mutilated after the battle just four months previous. The wounds of the werewolf could not compare to the grief that the last few hours had stricken him with.

Ginny spoke in barely a whisper, "Where's Dad, Bill?"

Clearing his throat, he answered, "Home. Fleur's with him. He's fi… not hurt."

Swallowing another lump, Bill began his story. "By the time Remus and Dad and… other Order members arrived at the Ministry, Everard had already reported seeing a distinctive rat running past a portrait in the northern hallway, heading towards Scrimgeor's office. Tonks and Dad went straight for the Minister's main office. The rest started searching the adjacent rooms. Apparently, Remus stumbled across the meeting and was…… Pettigrew had a silver hand………"

Taking the chance to give Bill a moment to collect himself, Harry said, "Yes, Voldemort gave it to him at the resurrection. What does that do to a werewolf?"

"It coats the spell," Dumbledore explained. "It coats the magic assault with the properties of the silver. It usually means death to a werewolf hit with most spells from it. A very popular method for hunting them in ages past."

"It was a weak spell though and Petti… that bastard was never a very competent wizard," Bill continued. "But it bought him the time to silence the traitor and escape. We gained nothing from this and we lost… we lost…"

"Bill?" Ron begged for the answer.

"Mom."

A very few precious moments of silent shock. Hermione's head falling into her hands. Ginny wailing. Clutching Harry. Tears streaming down. A crash of destruction. Ron on the floor. Draco's hand on his shoulder. Sobs from the man behind the desk. Disjointed pain. Loss. Silent tears falling.

Perhaps none but Draco clearly heard the final explanation from Bill, so disconnected from the fabric of reality and truth and pain the rest of the students were lost.

"It was Percy. He sold out the Ministry. Perhaps it was for power, or position in a new regime. Maybe even protection for the family. We'll never know. Mom dove in front of the Killing Curse without a second of hesitation or thought. You know her. Her baby in danger, nothing else exists in the world. After… af…… he killed Percy and transformed. Got away. Got…"

The lump in his throat seemed to cut off any further explanation. The room fell into a quiet somber mess of weeping and coughing and when lightning stuck not too far away, it brought Harry back into the present. Hermione was hugging Bill, his body racking with silent sobs. Draco had helped Ron to his feet and the two stood silently leaning against the right wall no longer touching but close. Ron's eyes were bloodshot and face red and blotchy. Draco's were lost and reflective. It seemed as if the brown in them had retreated into the iris and the green taken over in dominance and it looked as if they were draining into the centers.

Behind his desk, Dumbledore rubbed the bridge of his nose. The frustration and failure of the night seemed to radiate off of him as something tangible; a living grief that threatened to consume him. Drawing his attention closer, Ginny remained firmly attached to his midsection, grasping without restraint and tears soaking his robes. Her breathing barely under control, she could not stand the fear of releasing Harry to even catch a breath. If she did, the world would just keep falling away to nothing.

For Harry, the pain of the loss was obvious by the rotten feeling pulling up from his mid-section. It was the familiar pull from losing Sirius, from watching his father fall to Voldemort to seeing Lily sacrifice herself. Lily and Molly. For all those that talk about the bonds of sons and fathers, they should meet these mothers. Those who had the courage to love fiercely and without question or restraint.

"I'm so sorry," Dumbledore remarked sadly. "She was the mother to all of us. Even those of us old enough to be her grandfather. So much love in one woman. Love for every child and good-willed person in the world."

"Wh—" Harry swallowed the lump and continued, "What do we do now?"

As the question was posed, everyone silently was thankful. A task or schedule, something that needed to be done or completed, if it could occupy a mind and make them not consider… this. It was a welcome thing. Clearing his throat, Dumbledore explained things. "You are all excused from classes for the day and Bill will arrange a portkey to take you to the Burrow. There will be a… a funeral in the morning."

"What about the twins?" Ginny asked. Wiping her soaking wet face of the sleeve of her own robes, she looked up from Harry's chest.

"Moody went to talk to them," Bill said. "I'll see you off and floo Charlie. We'll decide on how to handle school security and whoever doesn't stay here will be at the Burrow tonight. Except… well Tonks will probably be with Remus in the hospital for a few days at least. If any of you want we can visit Sunday before we come back to school."

It was Harry who led the group into the antechamber, Ginny clutching his hand as if a lifeline. Bill followed with the plate he would soon turn into a portkey to his family home. Ron followed looking despondent and lost. They were, all of them, lost rudderless at sea. As Hermione moved to follow, she found a strong grip around her waist. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she struggled to look him in the face. Pushing past a whisper, she tried to ask him what he wanted.

"I'll follow later," Draco calmly explained. "I have to take care of something first."

"Some stupid project?" she retorted, raising her eyes and glaring angrily at him. "If you're going to be their friend, sooner or later you have to—" She wasn't sure if it was the unreleased tears in his eyes or the fierceness of his voice that stopped her complaints.

"Stop underestimating me, Granger. You're too good a person to have such a low opinion of somebody, even me, for so long. It's important, I promise. Just… trust me not to let you down at every opportunity from now on."

Grasping him around the neck, Hermione started sobbing slightly. Confused as to how proceed, he whispered at her, "Its okay, Granger. I trust you to be the fair, goody-Gryffindor we all know and tolerate. Keep an eye on Weasley. Ginny and Harry, the twins, Charlie and Bill. They all have someone. He'll need someone before the end."

Releasing him and stepping back, she asked, "What about me?"

With a smirk he joked, "Like I said, I'll be there later. Contain yourself, Granger."

Blushing and shaking her head back and forth quickly, Hermione rushed into the antechamber after her friends. Raising his chin, Draco saw Dumbledore smiling slightly, despite the tears in his eyes. Hardening his expression, Draco tried to turn, "Excuse me, sir" into an insult by tone alone.

Walking out the door, he swallowed the last lump of his own pain and decided it was time for the Ferret to help the Weasel.


	14. Picking Up the Broken Pieces

**CHAPTER THIRTEEN: Picking Up the Broken Pieces**

In years past, the residents of Ottery St. Catchpole have often noted the many red-headed children running through their streets. A large, happy family lived on the outskirts of the town, but they didn't socialize with the other families in the neighborhood. It was a large family with another toddler tearing around the city every few years. And even if they didn't know it, loud enough to be heard on the outskirts despite a very impressive set of silencing charms. They were regarded as strange. Nobody when questioned were quite sure exactly where their house was or what it looked like. Though they were certainly less strange than that depressing Diggory fellow who had been muttering about town for the last several years. Weasley; that was their name.

The neighbors may have never known of or understood the type of world the Weasley family lived in, or the burdens they bared over many years without complaint. And they would never know what they were going through this particular Friday evening.

Fred and George Weasley, the two most jovial lads of the family, were not in the house tonight. They were down the street at the local cemetery, supervising the preparations for the burial of their mother which would occur in a matter of hours. It was a completely depressing and painful duty. It was also one they would let no one else perform; a final duty to the most important person in their lives.

So there was a set of red-headed twins standing in the Ottery Cemetery with mirth and humor the last things on their minds.

"Daddy, did you want anything to eat?"

Back at the Burrow, Ginny stood in front of her father, planted in a recliner and his head in his hands. He didn't seem to even notice his only daughter or the plate of food she held out to him. Ginny wiped her puffy read eyes on her handkerchief and looked down at the plate. She certainly wasn't her mother. She remembered huge, delicious meals with Mum, Dad and all the brothers. She really tried to put together a good supper; something worthy of her mother's kitchen. But she had only helped her mother a few times and… well _One Minute Feasts_ became _One Hour Struggles_ for her.

Still not receiving an answer, she set the plate on the end table next to her father and returned to the kitchen. Harry was diligently tearing into his roast beef like a starving Ron. He may not have been terribly fond of it, but he certainly made the effort for her. She sat next to him and leaned on his shoulder, happy at having a boyfriend who ate stringy, incredibly dry roast beef with gusto to make her feel better.

"I'm lucky to have you, Harry," she whispered. Grinning slightly, Harry kissed her forehead. The two of them were alone in the room. Ron and Hermione had been outside for a while and Bill, Fleur and Charlie had left mostly untouched plates on the kitchen table. They were on the porch discussing the funeral. Bill had at least eaten all of Fleur's mashed potatoes. It was the kind of thing people did if they…

"I love you, Harry."

Choking on his food, Harry looked at an expectant Ginny and her sad eyes. Having no other easy option in front of him, Harry grabbed a napkin and spat out about two-thirds of his mouthful. As quickly and sounding as assured as possible with a piece of roast beef hanging from his lip, he explained, "I lugh u."

Laughing, Ginny pushed the food back into his mouth and kissed it. Rubbing his cheek, they looked into each other's eyes. Harry was unsure about his less than impressive response, but Ginny just smiled and ate a piece of Harry's dinner.

"Wow, I really can't cook," she remarked.

Chuckling, Harry remarked, "Well, I guess we can eat out a lot."

"Gee," his girlfriend replied with a smirk, "that sort of infers you plan on us spending a lot of time together someday."

Rubbing the top of her head, Harry murmured, "Well, it's an idea."

Ginny smiled warmly and shut her eyes, dreaming of happier days ahead of her. She knew that she wouldn't be making it through this as easily without Harry. Since her first year, the idea of surviving the war became an uncertainty. Its the type of feelings that take hold in an 11-year-old girl when she's possessed by the most evil wizard of their time. But Harry had the same sword hanging over his head. Part of what helped her get past her crush on him was the seeming likelihood of loving him only to lose him. She had forgotten about all the other people in her life she had… had to lose. First, Bill was nearly taken, but now… somehow Mum was worse than all the rest.

Outside, while Fleur hugged a weeping Charlie, Bill barely had the energy to stand up, instead seemed to pull himself into a tight ball leaning against the side of the Burrow. Across the street, Ron and Hermione sat out in the field, watching a joyous hinkypunk bouncing in her bog. Ron was struggling to contain tears that had been flowing throughout the day. His father was like a ghost, refusing to speak with anyone, his children included. The twins had each other to confide in and rely on. Ginny had Harry and, as Ron remarked about to no end, they could disappear into their own little world together at the drop of a hat. In pretty much the same way, Bill and Fleur had one another. Charlie had been away so long, it wasn't exactly like he was the first person Ron wanted to share his feelings with. That person was… No, that just wasn't going to happen.

A small, soft hand holding his own made Ron at least feel glad he had two best friends. Hermione always had a way of pushing down anything she needed and just being there for someone else. It was the type of sweetness that few people possessed. In Ron's opinion at this moment, there was one person who definitely did nothing of the kind. The only other person that was supposed to be with them and he was nowhere to be seen.

"It's not like I want him here anyway!" Ron screamed. "You and Harry came. Of course, you're practically family, not like him. He could have come though; you know… to talk to someone. Not that I want to!"

Hermione chuckled slightly and added, "Of course not, Ronald. I'm sure none of us do."

"No, Harry does. I know it! Ever since that stupid Ferret showed up this summer… sorry."

"Nothing to be sorry about," Hermione assured with what Ron considered her trademark reassuring smile. For all the times she could critique little details and the opinions of other people (including her dearest friends), this wasn't the day for that.

"It's okay, I know you both are friends now, too."

"W—wh—what are you! We are NOT friends! He… you know he hates me!"

Most people consider Hermione the smartest of their little group, but only those closest to them really knew how blind she could be to certain things and every so often Ron more than amazes her with an insightful bit of information.

"No, he doesn't. Even I like the git nowadays. He's good to Harry and doesn't tease us anymore or anything. Well, mostly."

"Why Weasel, I never knew you cared," came a familiar drawl from behind them. Ron and Hermione turned to see a by-now-familiar auburn head of hair and a cocky smile. Still wearing his Hogwarts robes, Draco stood there looking as superior as he could manage.

"Where have you been!" Hermione screamed. Even Ron looked shocked at her response.

Chuckling at her, Draco answered, "I'm doing something romantic. A bit out of character for me, but I thought you needed it."

"Y—y—you want, but… it's, you just c—ca," Hermione stuttered as her face became as red as Weasley hair.

"Not for you, Granger. I was talking about Weasel."

"Ferret, you really don't know—" Ron's retort broke off quickly when Draco stepped to the left and revealed his traveling companion. It was now Ron's turn to blush, tentatively stand up and walk quickly to the beautiful blonde girl with a tight smile. By the time he reached her, Luna leapt into Ron's arms. Ron offered a brief nod to Draco before walking back towards the house with the girl who without a lot of people noticing had become important to him; almost as much as Harry and Hermione. It looked like now Ron had someone to talk to and someone to be there for him.

Looking at Hermione and then past her, Draco remarked, "Bog's getting bigger."

"Well, it was a rather nice piece of magic," she added. "He seems to like it."

The hinkypunk seemed to be smiling as it bounced up high only to sink low into the bog and come flying out again. Draco thought of offering some words of comfort. Surely Hermione missed Mrs. Weasley, an almost surrogate mother to her and Harry, as much as anyone. But sweet words of comfort weren't something he had a great deal, or even any, experience using. So there he stood, halfway out in a field that was now anything but solid with nothing better to do than watch her fight back tears.

Draco tried not to shutter when Hermione blasted the contents of her nose into a napkin and rubbed her wet eyes on the sleeve of her slightly over-sized pink sweater. This of course only made Hermione feel worse. Not only had she apparently offended the standard rules of society, but the real problem was her last sweater from Molly Weasley now had the stains of her leaking face all over the cuff. She furiously wiped it on her own jeans. Somehow, it entered her mind, it can be alright if she cleaned off the sweater. Things could be okay again. The world of dozens of people wouldn't be shattered and life could go on and _WHY WON'T IT DRY OFF!_

At her failure, tears only returned in force and everything she had held inside the entire day… from hugging Bill in the headmaster's office to sitting quietly with Ginny to smiling at the stone-faced twins to holding Ron's hand… was now coming out. _And all of its ruining the sweater_.

A firm hand grabbed her wrist and any erratic movements were halted. A stone-cold expression only made sympathetic eyes stand out all the more. Draco tried extra-hard to seem rough and unaffected when he shoved his handkerchief into her hand and pushed it up to her face. Almost immediately, Draco assumed this met every nice guy standard that was expected of him. Turning he walked to the house without a word and failed in his attempts to stop grinning at what he heard: a girl blowing her nose, quickly rising and running to catch up with him. Hermione stayed a few paces back and to the left of him all the way to the Burrow.

Late that night, as the rest of the house slept or made some vague attempt at it, three young men sat up in the highest bedroom. They were awake, not because of the ghoul raising a particularly large ruckus just over their heads. Instead of curled up in sleeping bags on the floor, Ron's two guests were sitting up on his bed with him.

"I mean a cot in some rickety shed that's a sturdy wind away from crushing the last hope of the wizarding world is one thing," Draco complained. "But a… what is that thing?"

"A sleeping bag," Harry mumbled.

"A bag!" Draco tried to stay just quiet enough not to wake the rest of the house. "You want to throw me in a bag."

"For years now, you slimy git," Ron replied with little emotion.

Draco huffed dramatically and leaned over Ron, not-so-covertly whispering to his brother, "He's been plotting against me from the start."

"We all have," Harry answered with a smirk.

"Hermione drew up a diagram of our plans to humiliate you," Ron added. "The sleeping bag one is mine."

Draco laid back on Ron's bed, stretching over three-quarters of the space. He remarked, "Well, now you've done it. I've been made a fool and humiliated by the Weasel."

"Well, that's one less life goal," Harry offered, budging a smile out of Ron. "You can cross it off the list."

Suddenly actually concerned, Draco asked, "There's a list?"

"Well…" Ron paused and thought it over. "I'm sure Hermione has one somewhere."

"Probably," Harry agreed.

"So, where'd Lovegood run off to?" Draco asked.

"Ginny's room," Ron explained calmly. "And you aren't going to put me off either. I'm not embarrassed. I like her. There."

"Who said you didn't? Honestly, the only one at school blind enough to even consider anything besides that has been Potter. Acting quite the fool about it, he was."

Leaning back so his head fell off the left side of his bed, Ron nearly cracked a smile, "The important thing to remember from tonight is that _Ferret_ admitted he was a fool."

"I hate you, Weasley."

Despite the complete and utter serious tone of the statement, Ron's smile simply dissolved as he replied, "Yeah, I kind of like you too, Potter."

"Not you, too," Harry whined. "Bad enough when it was just Hermione; Not You Too! There are TWO Potters. You can't just give him the name. I had it first."

"That's your great analytical argument?" Draco asked. "You've devolved to arguing 'firsties'. Granger would be so disappointed in you, _Potter_."

"Stop it," Harry grunted.

"Well now, _Potter_," Ron said with a slight smile. "I think _Potter_ has a good point about what I can call _Potter_… or _Potter_. I mean a _Potter_ is a _Potter_ is a _Potter_."

"He has a point, _Potter_."

"Thank you, _Potter_."

"Why Weasel, you're as good as any _Potter_ I've ever met. An honorary _Potter_, I think. Do you approve, _Potter_? **_Potter_**?"

"I won't ask either of you again." Harry now pulled out his wand and began twirling it in his fingers. An almost cruel and maniacal smile plastered on his face. Ron and Draco both looked at one another. And perhaps they both felt like tempting fate that night. Or perhaps on some sad days, young men need to laugh as much as boys do. The two looked straight at Harry and at the same time chorused, "Potter."

Were the main streets of Ottery St. Catchpole just a bit closer to the Burrow, they might have noticed the incredible indoor fireworks show that took place that night on the top floor.

There were no fireworks the next morning, however. The local cemetery was once more the home of loss and pain. Harry thought back to the last time he was in a cemetery at the end of the fourth year. At least this time instead of being surrounded by an army of Death Eaters, it was friends and family. But he would go through that again in a heartbeat, if it saved the Weasleys being here and stop this suffering. Along with the full Weasley family and their closest friends, most members of the Order of the Phoenix were present. Dumbledore wore as sad an expression that day as any had seen on him. The sun that shined brightly brought no comfort to him or any of the others gathered. Moody, McGonagall and, of all people, Mundungus Fletcher all sent their regards, but were charged with the security of Hogwarts for the day.

Minister Scrimgeor sent a letter of condolences to Arthur. It seemed more than hollow when accompanied by the letter admonishing him for bringing his wife unauthorized into the Ministry offices and defiantly absolving the Ministry of all responsibility in the matter. It also informed him that they would provide no compensation to the family of one Percy Weasley, convicted posthumously of high treason. Bill had set the letter ablaze and very nearly the owl that had delivered it. The document seemed to stop just short of informing them that no further advancements would be available for Arthur under the current administration. His career, it seemed, was over.

Even that was no comparison to that morning's copy of the _Prophet_. The headline run across the entire front page "Ministry Sting Nabs Death-Eater" reported how spy Percy Weasley was captured in a Ministry-approved sting operation. The operation had apparently been quick and thoroughly successful, confirmed Minister Scrimgeor's long-held suspicions about the unconfirmed Death Eater. Fleur had torn the paper to shreds and tossed them into the fire before Arthur had seen it.

Bill and Ron had raged at the insults and wished most profusely that their father would as well. But still, silence was his response to the world. In less than two months since the students had seen him, Arthur seemed to age fifteen years. They were all quite certain the change had only set-in over the last several hours.

Also in attendance were a few of Arthur's Ministry colleagues, but not as many as were expected. The only one to actually speak to him and offer condolences was Perkins. Tearfully, the old man patted the shoulder of his cohort from the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office, where he in fact remained to this day, carrying on alone.

It was Fleur who, when Arthur could not stand to offer any words at the service, stood and spoke for Molly.

"Molly, vas a remarkabal voman. And a loving mother, even if zou vere not her child. I 'ope to believes that ve live on through our children. Zat Molly lives on in 'er children. Reborn eternal. I vill always remember meeting 'er for ze first time after ze Tournament. Bill 'ad brought me to vizet and she came 'ome late, carrying flowers, 'air wet from ze rain. She vas so quiet, sizing me up quietly. 'Ew could love 'er Beel az much az 'e deserved. I thenk I did not know vat love really vas until I saw Molly and 'er family. And blood mattered to 'er not von bit. Molly loved 'er husband and all 'er brotherz and sisterz, even with names like Prewitt or Black or Tonks and 'er children, even if their name vere Weasley or Potter or Granger or… I thenk, Delacour. If only ve all love our children zhat much. I vill remember… I v-vill remember… she had ze beautiful violet flowers."

At the end the slim, blonde girl bent down and set a long, purple flower before a gravestone. Walking quickly to her husband, Fleur buried her head into his chest and wept.

In all the years when the surviving Weasley children and their children came to visit the family plots, all were bare of wildflowers. The lone exception was a simple stone marker that was surrounded by fresh grape hyacinth every spring and throughout the growing seasons. Even in the pale of winter, the stems were never driven back to the ground, never all the way.

No flowers ever grew on the grave of Percy Weasley, who was committed to the family plot out of respect to his mother's sacrifice and the love of a father who could never fully forgive him. The service for Percy was quick and none spoke for him, but even betrayed they knew where he was supposed to be; the only place where Percy belonged. After only a few precious moments of silence, Ron huffed and led the way back to the Burrow.

But in the end, this day past as all sad days do: with tears and the comfort of old friends. While Bill, Charlie and their father accepted the best wishes from friends and visitors in the living room. The younger brothers and their friends sat quietly in the kitchen, quiet save for the gentle humming tune from Luna. None of them recognized it, but it seemed familiar to them all… like something from when they were all terribly young.

As Ginny walked back from the living room, she smiled tightly at the fact that her father had at least nodded and taken the plate from her. A sudden clinking noise caught her attention. Looking at the base of the family clock, she picked up two fallen handles for Molly and Percy Weasley. Tearing up slightly, Ginny placed them in her pocket. The clock itself glowed a faint red before returning to normal.

Shortly before dark, Dumbledore gathered up his students and brought them back to Hogwarts. Each had their own reaction to the funeral and though they had been offered the following day off from classes, not even Ron accepted. Though perhaps it was the glower of his dear friend, Hermione, that still had the strength to choose duty over fun… no not fun, not for a good long time, but some measure of peace.

Hermione found her peace in the routine of schoolwork, sitting in the Head's Common Room tearing a very brisk face through her Ancient Runes book, trying not to smear the pages with her tears. Across at the other end of the fireplace, Draco was reading… or at least looking at the same page of his own copy of the book. Suddenly and without reason, he found Greek symbols no longer made much sense and his vision seemed blurry. He slammed the book shut and marched quickly into his bedroom.

In Gryffindor Tower, Harry went right to bed, far before any of the other students… even the younger ones. He lay there crying in silence, trying not to draw any attention to himself, even when he heard the other boys come to bed. The familiar sound off to his left meant that his best friend was now the last to join him; and still Harry couldn't find the words. So Harry remained silent. When there was a near silent creaking noise an hour later, it had him clutching his wand. His concern for his safety released as a pair of strong, thin arms wrapped around his chest and squeezed him as if holding on to life itself. But Harry remained quiet until the girl's grip slackened. Slowly, the raven-haired lad raised a hand and slowly caressed her hand, eventually intertwining their fingers.

When even-paced breaths started blowing across the back of his neck, Harry was certain that Ginny was asleep. Eventually, Harry worked up the strength to stretch out his hand and pull an opening in his curtains. Seeing only the curtains of the next bed, Harry still spoke in an even, quiet voice, "I'm sorry."

"It's okay, Harry," a disembodied voice answered. "I just… I figured… after Sirius…"

"Yeah, but still I never thought—"

"Mom," Ron answered still behind his own curtain, looking upward. "I never even thought… I mean I know there are the ones up front. You, me, Hermione, Dumbledore, maybe even some of the Order… you know… the risktakers like Tonks or Bill. Part of me…you know?"

"The ones we accepted we might lose."

"Yeah, can't say how many times I've wondered what the bloody hell I'd do if you didn't make it out."

"Same here. You or Hermione or Gin… I suppose even Draco… the ones you don't know if you'd get past losing. So I suppose, we just have to see if this is one we can get past and survive… so we never forget but…"

"So it doesn't hurt so bad someday. I'm going to try and sleep now, Harry."

"Ron... I'll be up if you need me."

"I know."

The night did end, even if Harry never found sleep until the sun had risen, passing out only minutes before Ginny planted a quick kiss on his cheek and retreated to her own dorm. And they made it through that day and the next and the one after that. Bill would push his Defense classes harder than most thought necessary or wise and Fleur sat like a ghost through Transfiguration and Charms classes, assisting students only brave enough to interrupt her private ruminations. Ron retreated into Quidditch since there were no shortage of students willing to discuss it and the activity occupied his mind. Hermione scheduled out her NEWTS studying schedule and included time for her secret projects, even forcing Draco to agree to stick with it. Draco had become Harry's unofficial shadow, with him even more than Ginny during the day. He never offered an explanation for his actions and absolutely refused to let Harry within a hundred meters of the library without himself, Ron or Hermione alongside him. He had even taken to checking up with Miss Pince to ensure his brother wasn't checking out any books he shouldn't.

But nevertheless the days turned into a couple of weeks, until the day before the opening Quidditch match had arrived. This afternoon, Harry somehow managed to escape his brother's pursuit and took the opportunity to come knocking on the headmaster's door.

"Come in, Harry," he replied with a tight smile. "How may I help you today?"

"I just… I was… I needed some advise and it's not the kind of thing I can talk to my friends about."

"Not even your brother?"

"Especially not him," Harry replied emphatically. "He already thinks me a complete idiot for considering this idea over the summer. That I should… well break it off with Ginny."

"While I try not to get too involved in the school romances, I did think you cared for the lovely Miss Weasley a great deal."

"I do! I do. It's not just her… it's… everyone."

"I certainly hope you aren't planning to walk through life alone Harry. I don't think my journey would be nearly as tolerable without my companions and friends to see me through it."

"It's just… first my parents, then Sirius and now Mrs. Weasley are all gone and………it isn't me trying to protect them. I know that's what Draco and the others think. It's…"

"You're afraid, Harry, of loving," Dumbledore stated clearly. "I… I know I'm supposed to be this great, brave leader and a Gryffindor and the strongest warrior against Voldemort and—"

"Oh, Harry," Dumbledore chuckled. "That is not the truth… not nearly. You are only supposed to be who you are. You are a young boy now entering the cusp of adulthood. It is a time of great change and change often walks hand in hand with fear. Despite what the Ministry, the Daily Prophet, or your fellow classmates or the world in general expect or want you to be, you need by nothing but Harry."

"I thought Harry Potter was brave."

"Bravery may be a quality you possess, but certainly not the only one. Do you honestly believe by stopping yourself from loving others you can save them, or even lessen the heartache you feel if they pass on? Oh, my dear, Harry, death holds so much fear over you."

Harry leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes, saying, "As much as I love Mom and Dad and Sirius and Molly, there are people… people that I couldn't survive losing."

"Fear is alright, Harry, but don't fall into despair. There is always hope. There is always love. As long as you live, and I believe that will be a great long time. Life and death are only more adventures, my boy, but neither can change that one thing."

"Love."

"Indeed. Love does not hold away or stave off death because it doesn't need to. It proceeds onward regardless. You worry over what you have lost."

"My parents and my brother, I lost them and it hurts. Even finding Draco means feeling… feeling the way I do about not having him all those years."

"But you did find one another, Harry. Your love survived dark magic and time apart and even years of animosity. I think that is a great love indeed. The love for your parents… my that has become one of your defining characteristics. Love survives with you Harry because you wield as a fiery shield. Many would fall into despair after all you lost. But your love of your parents sustained you. Somedays………"

"What, Professor?"

"Somedays I marvel at the sheer amount of love you have built despite your pain. Your love that you give and receive in turn from the Weasleys, Miss Granger, your brother, classmates like Mr. Longbottom, instructors like Hagrid and… if I may say, myself."

"I appreciate it, sir."

"As do I, but it is as always, freely given and received. I know I sometimes sound like… well an old fool when I go on like this… but I believe in the strength of love, more so than any other magic. It is radiant about you, my dear friend, that sometimes I can barely make you yourself out from the shining light."

"Really?" Harry questioned, an eyebrow quirked.

"Oh yes, Harry. Remember love does not just extend out from us. It interconnects all around us amongst others. Miss Weasley and her mother. Molly and all her family. Professor Weasley and Miss Delacour. Lily and James. James and each of his Marauders. Sirius and Professor Lupin. Sirius and Tonks. Remus and Tonks. Lily and her sister. Your grandparents. Your parents and your brother. So much love, revolves around us everyday. It drives us, encourages us, sees us through the darkest of wars and further brightens even the sunniest days of joy. You could not shut out this love even if you tried. It is too much and too strong, Harry. Could you ever convince yourself to stop loving, Miss Weasley or any of the others? Could you do that in your heart?"

Leaning forward, Harry held his eyes closed a good long time. Perhaps he gave it some attempt, but at the end he opened them and gave the only answer Dumbledore knew he could.

"Never."

"Not even in the face of their deaths or your own?"

"No, not even then… not after either."

Waving Harry off, Dumbledore insisted, "Well, then please desist spending all your time with a silly teacher when you should be off with your friends. I dare suspect Draco has begun assembling a search party to find you."

Harry laughed at the statement and how true it probably was. "Yes sir, he is a bit attached."

"He dotes on you, Harry. Draco… he still desires to control things… to prevent the pain and death of those he loves. One day he will have to do as you all must."

"What's that?" Harry asked as he rose.

"Live, Harry. Just live."

Just as he opened the door, the young man was stopped by a frail voice behind him, "Remember Harry, death can never stop love. Those you lose will be with you until your own bitter end and the unknown beginnings beyond that."

Harry pondered the headmaster's word for the entire long, slow walk back to Gryffindor Tower. He had just offered the password and was about to enter when a new voice screeched out, "Where the bloody hell have you been, Potter!"

Turning to confront his enraged brother, Harry attempted to calm him, "I was just talking to Dumbledore. I'm fine."

"You could have let me know where you were going and not—"

Harry raised his hand and interrupted, "No, mate. You need to stop this. I gave my promise not to do anything foolish without the rest of you. I mean it, you have to trust—"

Walking away abruptly, Draco called out, "I won't stop trying… but… I'll try to be less obvious about it."

"I know how you feel!" Harry yelled after him. "We have to pick up and go on."

Stopping just before disappearing out of sight, Draco muttered something about "stupid Gryffindors" and disappeared around a corner.

The next morning before the first classes, Hedwig soared into the Great Hall alongside the rest of the post owls, but instead of heading for her normal drop along Gryffindor table, swung hard and without paused, dropped a long, thin box at the end of Slytherin table. No sooner had Draco peeked inside, and then he slammed it shut and read the card. _I really prefer the one Sirius gave me. This is for you from me. If you want to watch over me, you better be able to keep up._

Draco smirked and wouldn't even risk a glance at the far table, for fear of forever losing what little respect he had in his own House. Next to him, Sarah whispered to Mary, "What's a Mach 2?"

All afternoon classes that Friday had been cancelled in order to hold the first Quidditch match of the season. Saturday had been designated a Hogsmeade weekend for the students to make final purchases for the Peace Ball the following week. More than a couple of nasty glares were sent from the players, who preferred early matches and the extra day of preparations and the general convenience of not attending morning classes and then having to compete. The glares were directed at the most suspected ringleaders of organizing this last minute Hogsmeade weekend: the Patil sisters and a very pleased seventh year Gryffindor prefect by the name of Lavender.

The last remnants of a sad pair of weeks were coming to an end. Sitting in the changing room and making some final adjustments to his gloves, Harry glanced around. He preferred to wait until just before heading out onto the field for his pre-match speech. Oliver Wood used these last precious minutes to cram as much knowledge and strategy in as possible. But this was a different team with no shortage of leaders. He always felt it better to give them these moments to perfect their plans in smaller groups. Practice had beaten the mechanics into them, but now Harry was getting into his seeker mode. He wouldn't be down there with his team fighting the battle. He had to sit back and make sure they won the war.

Ginny and Demelza were speaking in rapid hushed tones with one another and their rookie counterpart Marie. Despite being a bit of a suck-up, she knew how to play Quidditch. It was less than a half hour into the tryouts before both his returning chasers had cornered him and pressed for her appointment. She wasn't a tremendous shooter and not overpowering in close-quarters with other players. Harry hadn't really figured out why they wanted her until a couple practices had past. She had decent enough abilities on a broom and combined with some Gryffindor courage about getting bounced around, let her get in close and steal the quaffle. But her greatest value was passing around the opposing side and getting Demelza and Ginny easy shots.

The Slytherins and their young keeper weren't going to be a match for these girls. Sitting across from him, Jimmy Peakes and Richie Coote were being far less quiet and secretive. They planned on smashing the other team's players as much and often as possible. Harry sighed slightly, they weren't even in the same league as Fred and George in covering their own team, but each had a mean strike and solid aim.

The combined attitudes of the team had Harry coaching them to be as aggressive as possible. Their game plan was simple, run up the score early and pound away, keeping the pressure off of Ron, letting their beaters worry about attacking instead of defense and as always keeping the attention on the game and off of Harry – letting him find the snitch on his schedule. Even Ron's nerves had lightened, accepting they were the dominant team more so than any year since Charlie was Captain. Knowing he didn't have to win the game himself just made Ron all the more potent a player. Harry smirked, thinking the 'Good Luck' kiss on the cheek from Luna might have helped too.

Glancing at the clock above the front door, Harry rose and addressed his team, "We've practiced just as much as we have every year…well at least since Wood left."

The team chuckled slightly. Harry noted the twins would find it hilarious, but he was the senior player here. No one else had known Wood by more than reputation.

"Practice might make us sharp, but it can also pull us into routine. I'll tell you before anyone this is a game of emotion. You know your jobs, but don't lose the fire. We have to be every bit the goal-scoring, speed-driven team we make ourselves out to be. Especially opening up against the Slytherins. We all know what kind of team they generally field: slow, mean and dirty. But don't forget these cheater tactics won them more than their share of House Cups."

"Now this is my seventh and last year on this team! I don't plan on ending it by handing that Cup off to anyone else. Least of all Marcus Flint's little brother! Now, chasers I want you on the offensive early. Tear into them and run that score up quick. If this game lasts anywhere near an hour, I want the snitch to be irrelevant on the scoreboard. Jimmy, you and Richie do what you do best. Keep those bludgers after the Slytherin chasers and clear out attack lanes for our scorers. Don't worry about Ron and I, we've been doing this long enough to look after ourselves."

"Damn right, mate," Jimmy agreed.

His shorter cohort added, "Bash the snakes, proper!"

"Go out there and don't just beat 'em. Crush those buggers!" Harry nearly yelled. "We're the more experienced team and everyone in this bleeding school knows it. Now let's go prove to them for the fourth year in a row, we're the best!"

The comforting cheers from the three largest sections of the stands further exhilarated the team as they made their way onto the pitch. Especially loud were the Gryffindors, since there wasn't a one among them that didn't remember this was the great Harry Potter's last year. A familiar and enjoyable roar tore across the stadium, followed by a familiar and pleasant voice yelling, "It's the Gryffindor Team! They're lead out by their returning captain, Harry Potter."

The cheers seemed to grow even louder, so Harry even forgot there were far fewer students in the stands than in previous years. "And of course, we have the very handsome keeper Ron Weasley! And the lovely Ginny Weasley, Demelza Robins and the newest addition Simmons at chaser. Peakes and Coote will once again try and knock fellow students unconscious without even breaking school rules!"

Between Ron's blushed cheeks, Ginny's giggles and Jimmy and Richard bashing each other playfully with their fists, Harry knew his team was ready. The Slytherins were led onto the field with their captain, Thomas Flint and his two fellow chasers, Urquhart and Vaisey. Draco trailed slightly behind the rest, his Firebolt Mach 2 swung casually over his shoulder as he smirked at Harry. The cheering for this team was drowned out by the jeers of the other Houses, despite the ardent attempts from the first year seats at the top of the Slytherin section.

"Here come the Slytherins, who all look quite upset. Their captain is chaser Thomas Flint, their keeper William Capulet seems both upset and porcine. I hope it doesn't put off his game. The beaters Cochran and Porter seem anxious and unhappy. Oh on, they might have been stung by a North Tibetan firewasp! Watch out for them! They seem like very intense young men, except for the unusually happy seeker, our own Head Boy, Draco Potter."

On Madam Hooch's insistence, Flint begrudgingly shook the hand of the much-taller Gryffindor and both teams took to the air. Harry, as was his custom, swung wide and high until he could look down on most of the pitch. He wouldn't see the snitch as easily, but it kept him from getting in the way of the chasers and out of range of the opposing team's beaters. By the time he looked back down, a great cheer went up and Ginny celebrated her first score of the season and an early Gryffindor lead. Things went even better when Marie intercepted the inbound pass and dropped it off to Demelza, securing the early lead.

Glancing around quickly, Harry found Draco dodging a bludger sent off in his direction by one of his own beaters then dropped ten feet in an instant to avoid being rammed by Flint. Harry searched for the snitch in earnest; it might not be that bad for all concerned if the seekers could end the match quickly.

His attention was directed back to the Quaffle by the cheers for an apparently stupendous save by Ron, who chucked the ball half the length of the pitch to Marie who drove it close before sending a pass zipping over the grasp of a Slytherin and into the waiting hands of Ginny, who faked out the keeper for an easy score. Shortly after another score from the youngest Weasley, Draco cruised up to Harry's level, rubbing what would turn into an impressive welt on his lower back. The two went their separate ways, each hoping to have an edge to go after the snitch.

After a half-hour, the little bugger still hadn't shown up when Ginny sent in her eight goal. Followed shortly thereafter by another steal by Marie and her first goal for Gryffindor. The young girl showed the most emotion she had all day, nearly leaping off her broom in celebration of her score and a 140-10 Gryffindor lead. Draco grunted in frustration and zipped off towards the space over his own goalpost ten minutes later when Gryffindor pushed their total to 180 and the snitch no longer would give the Slytherins the lead or a tie.

By this point nearly everyone in the stadium had become as distracted as the Slytherins, who's most daring strategy was keeping the bludgers out of Gryffindor control long enough to send one up, zipping past Draco's broom. In the stand, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw had mostly lost interest and were just staying around for the race for the snitch. Hermione had kept most of her House on their feet cheering for every save by Ron and score by the chasers.

Luna's commentary had long since left the game and even McGonagall didn't have the inclination to direct her attention back to it. She had gone off on tangents discussing everything from the early chill to her least favorite type of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. The groans in the crowd indicated mucus was an equally hated and surprisingly far too common flavor. One of the few Slytherin goals came just after Luna remarked on Ron Weasley's lovely shoulder-length red hair. But Harry nearly fell off his broom when the following comment roared through the stadium, "You know from what I hear Draco Potter doesn't have a date yet for the Serenity Ball. Perhaps he'll still ask one of the fine girls of Hogwarts. I myself have an escort already. Oh, coincidentally, the Head Girl, Hermione Granger, is currently just planning to go with friends."

Draco, Harry and Ron all nearly fell off their brooms at the comments and Ginny laughed so hard that she nearly dropped the Quaffle. In the Gryffindor stand, Hermione sat between a sheepish looking Neville and the insanely giggling duo of Parvati and Lavender. She simply buried her head in her hands, as if to block out the embarrassment.

Flying past the Slytherin stands, Harry noticed the frantic cheering of the younger students still thinking they had a chance. But what truly stood out were the consistent quick glances Blaise Zabini had been sending Draco throughout the length of the match.

In an instant it was forgotten as the entire crowd stood on their feet, Harry's broom was turning as fast as his head and there was Draco, pulling himself into almost a straight dive at the base of his own goalpost where sure enough, there was a flash of gold. Draco was far closer and on the faster broom, but Harry pushed hard, laying flat on his broom willing himself faster. He was saved when the snitch bolted up and straight across the field toward the Gryffindor goal, towards Harry at midfield. At the same time Draco had to swing hard left to avoid hitting Ginny in the top of the head as she took another shot on the goal.

By the time he pulled up, it looked like Harry had an easy catch as Harry reached out for the easy victory, a rogue bludger grazed his forearm slightly. By the time he turned and was after the snitch again, Draco was exactly even with him. Draco roughly nudged Harry, attempting to force him to go wide or run into Jimmy Peakes. Instead Harry performed a flawless barrelroll underneath his brother to come up on his left.

When about a meter away, Harry right arm and Draco's left extended. They only had a few precious seconds before they would have to split to avoid the goalpost. Both hands closed in and reached the extra distance at the same time, fingers seemingly intertwining around the snitch. With no time left, Harry stretched a millimeter further, snapped his hand shut and pulled up hard and to the left.

Before his second fist-pump into the sky he knew something was wrong. There were no cheers, even from Gryffindor.

Turning, he saw the misshapen pile of green robes and red ground. Diving fast enough to make the snitch race seem as if run by turtles, Harry was rolling onto the ground and crawling desperately toward what he could only assume… what he _knew _was his brother. Hooch made it to him first, seemingly calling for someone. Ron grasped Harry by the shoulders and had to hold him back. He couldn't fully be stopped until Jimmy and Richard each had Harry by the arms. By the time Ginny and the chasers reached Harry and pulled him to a stop, Madam Pomfrey, Fleur and Bill were already over his brother, waving their wands quickly over his fallen body.

"Wh—what… who?"

"That snake beater Cochran got a cheap shot off at you two, smashed Mal… your brother's broom," Jimmy explained.

"All the blood… How?"

Ron was able to pull Harry off a bit and whisper in his ear, "He wasn't aiming for both of you; just Draco. Bastard smashed Draco's broom apart from the right side, might have got him in the hip too, I couldn't see. He… fell off at full speed, the post nearly tore him in tw—"

"Shut up, Ron!" Ginny screamed. Grasping Harry and not slackening when his grip became fierce, she went on, "He did hit the post hard and came down on his head. But it's okay, Pomfrey's here and Bill is a right wizard at fixing up hurts and scrapes. Twins have made it to Hogwarts intact without him. Even Fleur knows a thing or two as well."

Harry looked around briefly, wishing to find Cochran and his wand as soon as magically possible. He saw Bill nodding and standing up, in a flash Hagrid lifted the small, limp man in his arms and marched quickly up towards the castle with Pomfrey and Bill walking quickly in his wake. Fleur walked toward them and all Harry could see was the deep crimson of blood standing out on her pale arms and light blue robes.

"'Ello, 'Arry," she spoke softly. "Draco iz still unconscious, but ve 'ave healed the damage to zhe shoulder and heep as vell az can be."

"When will he wake up?"

"Ve do not know. Eet iz zhe injury to zhe 'ead zhat concerns us most. Please go shower and change. By ze time you are done if 'e 'as not woken on his own, Pomfrey vill enervate 'im."

Reaching to touch Harry on the shoulder, Fleur stopped abruptly when she saw her hands and withdrew them. With a sympathetic nod, she started off up to the castle. Before turning to pull Harry towards the showers, Ron noticed Hermione racing towards them with Neville trailing shortly after her. "Is he—"

"He'll be okay," Ron assured, though his voice lacked confidence. "They already patched up the worst of it. We'll know for sure when he wakes up. They'll enervate him in a bit, so we're going to get Harry cleaned up."

"I'm sure he'll be alright, Harry," Neville offered. "Why just last week he was licked by TWO Bolivian Death Frogs and he was up and about in an hour."

"Thanks, Neville."

"I—I'll go up to the Hospital Wing and let you know if anything happens." Neville jogged off toward the school and the three Quidditch players turned to head for the changing rooms, Hermione called out, "Harry!"

"Go on," he motioned to Ron and Gin who reluctantly did so.

"They were aiming for him all day," Hermione stated calmly. "They'll keep doing it. Zabini was talking to Flint while he was on patrol last week… I should have realized… I'm so sorry, Harry. It's my—"

"No it isn't, Hermione. Draco saw them too and we've known for a while in practices they were trying to get him hurt. I saw Zabini watching him all day long. We just pushed our luck too far."

"Draco can't---I mean we can't let Potter keep playing with them. I don't care what he wants, we can't let him."

"I know. I'm going to get changed. I'll see you in the Hospital Wing?"

"Of course! I'll head right up."

As Harry walked quickly up to the changing room, Hermione found herself walking slowly, then quickly and then racing back to Hogwarts Castle.

_A/N: Thanks for reading. I wish I could say the loss and suffering was over, but freedom isn't always won cheaply. The story from Fleur describing meeting Molly is inspired by part of T.S. Eliot's "The Waste Land." The Hyacinth is associated with rebirth and the grape ones that are on Molly's tomb are also called baby's breath. Just a bit of background, I thought you might like to know. Also, I hope the funeral and a Quidditch match in the same chapter weren't too much of a shift, but I definitely wanted to get through the Ball next chapter. So please, keep reviewing and the next chapter will hopefully be up within a week.  
_


	15. Serenity

**CHAPTER FOURTEEN: SERENITY**

Draco Potter was somehow under the distinct impression that he had just been trampled by a herd of wild erklings. And he felt a near-irrepressible desire to slowly mutilate said erklings. Supposing the massive ache behind would only get worse when he tried to open his eyes, he attempted to raise his hand to shield them. Try as he might, however, Draco could not budge his right arm and trying only sent sharp stabs throughout his upper chest. The left arm was slightly more obliging. Slapping his hand roughly onto his brow, he began rubbing the tension behind his eyes.

Before he opened his eyes, he heard the gasps throughout the room and the shuffling of feet. Then the persistent and annoying voice, he had unfortunately come to recognize as the last of his family called out, "Draco, can you hear me?!"

Cracking his eyes open, the light stabbed in like little needles, but at least Draco had prepared for it. The guttural noise he made failed to satisfy his interrogator, so he collected his wits and blinked until the vision of a raven-haired boy standing over him came into sharp focus. Thinking of the most comforting answer he could possibly provide, Draco smirked and announced, "Darn, it wasn't all a dream."

Draco glanced down at his body, it seemed most everything below the neck was glowing slightly purple, indicating he was hurt and drugged to prevent movement. Standing behind Harry, the Weasley siblings, Hermione, Luna and even Neville sat on nearby cots. They must have driven Pomfrey stir-crazy if she hadn't been able to drag them out of the room. Seeing Harry's worried smile turn into a frown, Draco added, "Just kidding, brother 'o mine. So who tried to do me in this time? Some bit I didn't ask to the dance?"

"Your beater, Cochran," Harry answered. Fisting his hands at his side, he added, "I was going to go looking for him, but Slughorn and McGonagall were on him right off."

"I'll deal with it," Draco answered hoarsely. "It won't happen again."

As Hermione tentatively poked him in the back, Harry set as strong a resolve as he could to his face and replied, "You're right. It won't because you aren't playing with them anymore."

Draco took a moment to let the annoyance bleed out of his face before smirking and joking, "Well, is this some Gryffindor pity party on my behalf? No thanks, Potter. I can handle the twerps in my own House. You all deal with your own."

To everyone's surprise it was Ron who argued back, "Come off it! We all know Zabini and Parkinson were behind it! Kicking off Cochran isn't going to change anything."

"Ron's right," Ginny added as she stood from her perch on a nearby bed. "What if someone else tries it again during practice when no one's there to help?"

Growing from annoyed to angry, Draco gritted, "I'll have my wand, Weaslette. And I haven't needed any help—"

"No," Hermione argued defiantly. "We all agree it's too risky and—"

"Oh, just shut it, Granger!" Draco yelled. "I'll decide when I'm done and no one else."

"Dumbledore already has," Harry snapped back. Rage boiled over in Draco's eyes. Harry found the look to be familiar, but more unsettling than it ever appeared in the past. Perhaps because now he didn't want Draco angry with him, but he and Hermione had already convinced the headmaster it was for the best. He had to admit Hermione was right to suggest moving forward and speaking with Dumbledore before Draco woke up. Steeling himself against any more retorts, Harry added, "You're always watching over me like I'm a helpless child. It's not right you shouldn't get the same treatment."

Narrowing his eyes, Draco replied, "I'm not the one who has to save the world, so I can risk whatever I want. It's my neck."

Offering a quick nod towards Ginny that only his brother caught on to, Harry softly added, "Sometimes brothers have to save each other from doing stupid things. And… I don't want to be 'The Boy Who Lived' with you. And you aren't just some Slytherin snake to me. You let me be Harry and you be Draco and we'll—"

"We'll all," Ginny interrupted, "just be friends."

Even if things had evolved that way on their own, somewhat haphazardly perhaps, admitting the truth sobered Draco's anger greatly. For more than a year, he had become less interested in friends and somehow learned to accept that his life would be a sad and lonely one. But one decision in the Astronomy Tower had changed everything. He was now firmly imbedded on the side of interfering do-gooders. Whether or not that was a good thing, he had yet to decide. After a moment of silence, it was Ron who plopped down on the next bed over and spoke quietly. He said, "Well, if you want to be our friend, Ferret, you'd better get on with the idea that Hermione or I might save your life or stop you from doing something stupid once in awhile. Harry's given us a good six years of practice at it."

Pushing down the hushed desire to scream, whine, or generally smash Ron's face for actually admitting they were friends, Draco instead remained silent. It wasn't as if there was much to do about the situation right now, what with being immobilized on a hospital bed. So there he laid until Madam Pomfrey realized he was awake, shooed away his visitors and force-fed him some disgusting neon-blue tonic that put him to sleep.

For their part, none of the others even mentioned the 'friends' conversation or the events on the Quidditch pitch in their visits over the course of Draco's weeklong stay in the Hospital Wing. Harry stopped by and ate lunch with him everyday, then visited again with Ginny, Hermione, Ron and Luna each evening. All further conversations revolved around Hermione keeping him up to date on classes and Ron being disgruntled about being dragged along on patrols with her every night.

"I haven't even caught anybody fighting yet," Ron complained on Tuesday. "I mean the war keeps everyone so quiet and in line. What's the fun of being a prefect if I can't hand out detentions and catch people snogging."

"Ron!" Hermione yelled, quickly slapping her hand over her mouth for fear of Pomfrey expelling her. She proceeded in her chastising quietly, "It's a sacred duty, not a bloody peep show."

Smiling Draco added, "But if you are interested…"

"Yeah?" Ron asked.

"Three-quarters of the way up the steps to the owlery every night after supper and before Quidditch practice…"

"Yeah?"

"That's where Potter takes your sister for their sessions."

Ron's once greedy and devilish smile turned into a constipated frown as quickly as Harry and Ginny's faces faded red. Even Hermione grew a slight blush and focused on her Ancient Runes notes far more diligently. Freed of the binding spells, Draco put on a wicked smile and raised his left arm and folded it under his head. The right shoulder was still too sore to move. Only Luna seemed unaffected, though a close observer would notice that her smile grew ever so slightly. She was the one to speak next, noting, "I think behind the statue of Tam Lin in the corner of the garden courtyard would be a good place for that type of thing."

"W—why do you want to think about something like that?" Ron asked.

"Weasel," Draco quickly spoke, "Why don't you go down there with her and see if you can figure out the attraction. Can't be that bloody thick."

Huffing and rising, Hermione placed her notes into her bag. Before leaving, she remarked, "If you're just having your little fun with us, Potter, I think I'll be on my way."

As she walked towards the door, he called after her, "Come on. I haven't said anything about you, Granger."

Pausing she began to turn around when he added, "Yet." And sent her quickly walking out of the room and back up to her tower.

Draco received one visit from his new Head of House on Wednesday, who took the opportunity to publicly bemoan the loss of his only competent Quidditch player for the _entire_ year. His sullen expression only broke when he reminded the young man about the annual Slug Club Christmas party and how he simply _must_ be in attendance. Shortly after his noncommittal response, Draco was greeted by a set of visitors that he found as unexpected as the fact that he was actually pleased to see them.

"I can't believe you're gone for the whole bloody season," Sarah complained as she fiddled with her own shoes, sitting Indian-style on the bed next to Draco's. "You don't look to bad."

"Thanks," mumbled Draco, who couldn't quite get used to the idea of who his only Slytherin allies… or in this new 'bright and shiny world' _friends,_ were.

Laying chest down on the bed with her feet dangling over the edge, Mary remarked, "I mean we were all frightfully worried, but it just stinks! Will you be back in your room this weekend? We could use a hand with our Potions assignment again. Nobody in Slytherin is any help with that."

"Hey, I'm not too bad," Mitchell argued from his place standing at the foot of Draco's bed.

Draco nodded and after a brief pause, Sarah whispered, "I think… they're still planning something."

Draco used his good arm to push himself up into more of a sitting position and tried not to sound too harsh when questioning, "What have you seen?"

Sarah looked over her shoulder and motioned towards the door. Mitchell quickly marched to the front door and stuck his head outside before nodding his approval and stepping into the hallway fully. Mary quietly paced toward Madam Pomfrey's office and offering Sarah a thumbs up before turning her full attention on the office.

Sarah hopped off of the bed and spoke to Draco in hushed tones, "Mitchell's lab partner Haram was bragging about how they got you in Potions the other day and let it slip that they had big plans soon that would solve the problem… permanently."

"Not very Slytherin-like to let something slip to a known Muggle-born sympathizer even if it was to taunt them," Draco remarked as his trademark smirk reaffixing itself for the first time in a good while.

Grinning Sarah remarked, "Well, Pansy has said quite a bit this year of House standards falling. Of course… she was probably referring to me."

"How has it been lately? They haven't—"

"Same old cursing and name-calling I've gotten since the start of term," Sarah replied. "Mary and Mitchell keep with me so they never corner me alone, so it never gets too bad. And that shield charm we learned in DA… well, its come in quite handy."

Draco tried to make it obvious he really meant what he said as more than a sentiment when he added, "I wish I could keep an eye on you in the dorm."

"I don't! Heavens, there may not be much of a precedent for Muggle-borns in the House, but at least there were a couple only 15 years ago. They don't stand you at all. Especially…"

Sarah glanced towards the doorway again and took a moment to lower her voice before continuing, "Blaise and Pansy. You probably hear them say things like calling you a blood traitor and such, but there… there's more. Every week they push all the younger students to bed by 10 on Thursday, but Mitchell snuck down last week and they were talking… on the floo."

"Did they see him? Did he hear who they were talking with?"

"He thinks he got away clean, but they were talking with Pansy's dad and someone that Blaise called Lucius."

Draco could literally feel the quickening of his pulse and the draining of color from his face. He knew that Lucius Malfoy had escaped Azkaban that night, but the confirmation of it, knowing he was out there plotting with Voldemort and his ilk, actively planning something against him; it hurt Draco in a manner similar to betrayal. He still had the rare morning where he looked in the mirror and his reflection reminded him who he was. It was only the evidence before him that stopped him from acting like a Malfoy again. But he had always remembered. His father was James Potter. Even if he never told anyone, especially Harry, those were the mornings when he knew he could never fully erase the last 16 years. Those were the mornings when he felt like nothing but a betrayal of James and Lily... and Harry.

Taking his silence as encouragement to proceed, Sarah explained, "They avoided saying anything specific, but there is something they called, the Wyrm. I figure they were talking about you, since it means a dragon or a flying snake. The most he could make out was that the Wyrm survived and they were to take a more direct approach."

Draco's brow scrunched tightly as he contemplated how much more direct they could get. Smashing ones broom and sending them plummeting to their likely death was pretty bloody direct in his opinion. Direct could only mean that there would be no more go betweens. The next attack would come directly from Hogwarts two lead Death Eaters. If Lucius was involved in the plan, Draco was certain that at the very least it would mean his death. Where some might be concerned or worried, as Sarah very obviously was, he accepted this news relatively evenly. Better to know its coming and be given the chance to prepare. Sensing that he would be contemplating this news for a bit, Sarah gathered her friends and left Draco with his only thoughts for company.

The confirmation that students were speaking with Death Eaters on a weekly basis didn't necessarily threaten the school. Hermione and he had shadowed them on every patrol so far that year and Harry had the most trusted members of the DA keeping an eye on them during the day. Even if Neville had been caught by them four times, at least they weren't able to get free on their own for extended periods of time like he had last year. The discovery did make them more careful. Before that they had revealed a half-dozen supporters spread throughout all of the houses of the school. If they were still meeting each other, they had discovered an undetectable means of doing so.

On top of the surveillance, Hermione took it upon herself over the summer to devise every possible way of breaking into Hogwarts. Dumbledore assured them each and every manner had a counter in place and the school was as safe as any building in the wizarding world. It appeared nothing short of a full scale invasion led by Voldemort himself would penetrate the school barriers.

But the problem that Draco spent the next day mulling over was that they didn't need to get in. Between two and eight of their number had ridden the train with all the other students. Parkinson might have always been petty and cruel on a level approaching Draco, but she didn't have the skills with dueling that most of the DA had. The problem with magic, however, was that it leveled the field. A couple of whispered curses could make the difference. The more pressing concern was Zabini. Draco had never been as close with him as Crabbe and Goyle, but the Slytherin in him knew a threat when he saw it. Where Pansy would scream her insults to no end, Blaise was always the quiet one. As the former master of the art, Draco knew to be wary of the snake that creeps silently around to your back.

Talking about this news with Harry on Thursday night didn't make things any easier to handle.

"We just have to keep a closer eye on them."

"You really are the living end of reason Potter," Draco retorted. "Unless you want Sarah and her friends to slip into their beds at night, we're doing all we can."

"It isn't enough!" Harry screamed as he stood and kicked the next bed, stubbing his toe harshly. While he tried to rub the pain out, Draco took a deep breath and sat up further.

"Of course it isn't enough, but then I believe I've used up Dumbledore's last nerve when it comes to Unforgivables. You need to learn some patience. Look at Granger and Weasel. You don't see them going mad and attacking the furniture."

Looking away sharply, Harry answered, "Ron's fine as long as they don't cancel Quidditch or dinner. And Hermione wouldn't notice if Voldemort himself walked into Transfiguration until McGonagall dismissed us. They don't know—"

"Shut up, Potter!" Draco yelled, reaching over and slapping his brother harshly on the cheek. Harry looked dumbfounded for a moment, then leapt towards his brother, knocking them both off the other side of the bed. The two scuffled briefly until Harry pushed Draco's shoulder against the wall and howled in pain.

Coming to his senses quickly, Harry helped him back into bed and poured him a glass of water. He silently thanked heaven that Pomfrey was down at dinner. Draco took the glass and drank, never stopping glaring at the suddenly sheepish boy.

"As I recall Dumbledore brought me up to speed on the two of them helping you tackle a troll and some rather ingenious traps back in first year. '_They don't know!_' I'd think if you were serious about not just being the Great Muckety-Muck Savior and just having a family, you'd recognize when you have one. The Weasel doesn't just go on about the little, unimportant things because he's addle-minded… Well he is, but that's neither here nor there. He just wants you to remember you're a 17-year-old boy some days. And I've news for you. You wouldn't have done a bloody thing without the Bookworm. You have power Harry, but that's something any moron can have. If you had half her intelligence this little war of ours could have wrapped up years ago."

"And what do you do?" Harry asked as he sat next to Draco on the bed, pouring him a glass of water.

"Someone needs to slap the stupid out of you," Draco replied with a smirk. "And Potter, it's the job I trained my whole life for. Speaking of which, have your bird teach you how to fight, you just don't have the knack for it."

Harry's long held frown morphed into a smile at the jab and the two managed to pass the evening without more of a fuss than Madam Pomfrey shaking her head judgingly at the mess they had made of the sheets and the fact that they had her patient sitting up. Draco was most disturbed that such a fuss had to be made when he was leaving the very next afternoon.

Before he could leave however, Draco received one final visitor. When Pomfrey left with a third year that had burned off every bit of hair they had in potions, a distinctive wooden cane echoed across the hall. Very unlike the one Lucius had carried around for years, Dumbledore's cane looked like a gnarled branch. It was somewhat reminiscent of the effect of the manticore poison on his other hand. If nothing else the cane had a completely unique sound to it; as if a tapping cane could instead be a completely natural creaking in the woods. Draco simply left his eyes closed even when squeaking bed springs indicated the headmaster was just a couple feet away.

"I'd like to have a word if I may, Draco," Dumbledore requested, his voice even and unaffected by the student before him apparently being asleep.

Without opening his eyes for even a glance, Draco went off on a tangent, "Sometimes you really have me wondering if you're the craftiest Legilimens in history, or just the eccentric old fool I once thought you."

"Must I only be one?" he asked with a smile. His silence encouraged Draco to open his eyes and shift into a sitting position. Movement of his shoulder had in the last 24 hours improved from painful to discomforting. Nodding cheerfully at his progress, the headmaster continued, "The reason for my visit concerns a bit of an argument between Harry and yourself. The decision to remove you from Quidditch for the season might have been suggested by your brother and his friends, but it was my choice and mine alone. I would not want any bad blood between brothers over this. He will need you far more before the end."

"I'm sure we're well on the way to patching things up. I… I don't stay upset as long as I used to. Sometimes I wonder if… nevermind."

"It is perfectly normal, Draco. Regardless of your circumstances, you are on the cusp of adulthood. Even if your name had always been Potter you would still be changing from the boy you were into the man you are. And I do think you are becoming quite a good man. Harry will need you before the end and you will need him. He will need to look to you and his friends when others might not be there."

Swallowing deeply as the silence stretched out for several tense moments, Draco decided to voice the chief concern he had been developing for weeks now. He may be wrong and look a fool, but his pride was not as quickly insulted as it one had been.

"How long until you aren't there anymore?"

At the very best even assuming his near wild guess was correct, Draco expected a quick and terse denial. He had never thought to expect this. He never foresaw a slow strength-gathering breath, followed by the simple answer of "weeks at best."

It had all added up that way in his head, but once again the confirmation of something gave it an entirely new reality. He could always imagine incredible outlandish things like being friends with Harry Potter or Snape not really working for the Dark Lord, but to see some wild theory as the truth made it an entirely different beast. Now the facts he had stumbled together in his mind were confirmed. Dumbledore was nearly constantly absent from meals. There was almost no true movement forward on the search for the Horcruxes, so he wasn't out and about. The way he leaned on his cane more and more as the weeks past. The fact that the greatest wizard of his age hadn't performed so much as a vanishing charm in months. For the first time since Draco had met him, Dumbledore's old man routine seemed to become more than any single 'routine' should be.

Searching for words that wouldn't come, he continued to glare openly at the headmaster. His mouth hung open for the longest consecutive amount of time he could remember. Only the professor's hollow words brought him to his senses enough to snap his jaw shut.

"I have exhausted every possible source, but it seems Voldemort was every bit as clever as we like to give him credit for being," Dumbledore explained. "He concocted a poison to guard it. But it had to be charmed so one had to drink it… so it could not just be spilt on the ground or reached into. These charms diluted the poison, gave me what time I have had."

Not wanting to sound like some Gryffindor or Hufflepuff, Draco bit back the urge to ask about a cure. Surely if there was one, Dumbledore and Slughorn would have discovered it. The unfamiliar clawing of guilt scratched at his insides, thinking the only potions master capable of outdoing them or Voldemort was the one dead because of an Unbreakable Vow forcing Snape to do Draco's job; to protect him. Instead of voicing this, he retreated towards his more practical instincts.

"Who knows and w… what does this mean for Harry?"

"You are the sixth after Professors McGonagall and Slughorn, Madam Pomfrey and myself and my... and a private relation," Dumbledore explained quickly and efficiently. This next part was harder and came out slower. "Between us we have begun making arrangements for after I am gone. But at the least, I won't despair. In you children… I see the hope and peace that I won't live to see myself."

"As for Harry… I truly have devoted every resource I have towards discovering anything that might help us defeat Voldemort. In truth, I await only confirmation from one final source to detail the location of Hufflepuff's cup. My journals list several possible ways of locating Nagini… everything from locator spells to magically disposed creatures and events to consulting a rather cranky snake charmer acquaintance in Sri Lanka. Of course I could always find a Mist of Forgotten Truths or the Lost Djinn, but such rarities are beyond even my resources. I… I fear Voldemort has left us no trace of the final Horcrux."

Draco simply sat back and after a moment Dumbledore coughed and continued, "I first… I learned of my fate less than an hour before you returned to us with your book and your true story. I believed... I know it to be fate."

"Fate," Draco scoffed. "It was a coincidence. The closest it was to fate was that bad news travels in pairs."

"Bad news, my son? Hmpf. I might be what some call an old fool, but I am not so far gone that I have lost all common sense. What Lucius and the others did was indeed terrible. But you returning for us was a small miracle on its own. Another ally for our side to replace the one that will soon be lost."

"I cost us Snape too, my allegiance had a high price. If Harry knew… he'd probably think it was too high."

"You cost us nothing, Draco," Dumbledore said emphatically as he leaned closer. "You are not responsible for my choices, or Professor Snape's or Narcissa Malfoy's. All you did that night was choose to be a better man. If I can leave you no other advise let it be this; life will leave every man their fair share of suffering, so there is no reason to invite more. Self-pity will help no one, least of all yourself. Your pity would be no more helpful than the sorrow Harry would feel when he finds out. I would for this reason ask you to keep my confidence and let him know in my own time."

Draco buried his face in his hands for a moment, as if to rub out the responsibility. Steeling his nerves, he looked up and answered, "I won't lie to him. I've… I've done enough of that to last three lifetimes, so if he… well if Granger figures it out and tells him, I won't lie. But besides that, I suppose… it's your business not mine."

When the headmaster took a step away, Draco called out and stopped him, "You know you could have lied for once. Suspecting is one thing, but knowing…… I should learn to keep my mouth shut and live with the burdens I already have. If only I was a bit more blinkered… Or maybe a little less of a glutton for knowing the worst."

Rising Dumbledore looked down at Draco with a kind smile and added, "You were not meant to suffer extraordinarily and I know you will find your happiness. I think you will have your family, Draco."

Harry didn't visit his brother again before he was released and sent back to the Heads Tower. It was the combined misgivings about their earlier fight and the fact that he had to pace nervously about the Gryffindor common room and then the Entrance Hall. During this time Ron, who had along with Ginny seen Draco safely back to his own room, was sitting on a low windowsill and watching the sun set beyond the forest. They had tried to set themselves as far alone in a corner as possible so Ginny and Luna could find them easily enough.

"How are you so calm?" Harry asked, agitated. "You were a right wreck before the Yule Ball and now you're doing some impersonation of Draco. Why are you so calm? It isn't natural!"

"Well," Ron explained, "back in third year I was going with Padma and… crickey, I didn't even know what liking girls was like back then. I mean I knew I liked Hermione. She's my best friend and seeing her their with Krum having a grand old time and me with pretty much the only girl left in school that hadn't been asked, who only went with me thanks to you… I was right buggered from the start."

"And you aren't now? Going with Luna and Hermione going alone… she is going alone this year, right?"

"As far as Ginny or I know," Ron answered with a shrug. "I mean even when she and Ferret aren't working on their bloody billion NEWT classes, those to are up to something, but… no its nothing like that. The only other blokes she ever sees are us."

"Well, you aren't in love with her are you?" Harry asked, only half-joking.

"Sorry, mate, not me. Why are you?"

"He better not," called a teasing voice from behind Harry. He flung around and there were Ginny and Luna. The moment he caught his girlfriend's eye, both broke out into wide smiles and looked downward. Harry took the opportunity to admire her bright gold dress robes and how well they seemed to compliment her. It was familiar and comforting in a way Harry couldn't really put into words. He smiled realizing how much that idea described Ginny herself.

Ron looked from Luna's wide smile to his sister and her date. Figuring them mad for acting like a pair of silly third years, he grunted annoyingly at them and walked up to take Luna's hand. The silver robes she wore appeared to be a larger version of the dress she wore to the Christmas party last year. Ron noticed something that made him feel thoroughly uncomfortable when looking at her; as if something was off.

"Where's your necklace and your earrings?"

Glancing quickly to Ginny with a smile, Luna answered, "Well, I didn't wear them last year at the party and well… they're more personal. Well the necklace is, my mother made it for me. I have it in my pocket. The earrings are just in case I run across a vampire, or a vampire mouse. Things like that happen, you know."

Ron nodded emphatically, he wasn't entirely sure how many of these creatures Hermione dismissed as nonsense really existed, but it was a bit comforting being near someone who did consider and prepare for them. Swallowing what he assumed to be a rather large lump of courage, Ron reached down and grabbed the butterbeer cork necklace she had been fingering and held it out before her.

"You should wear it," Ron suggested. "I mean I like it. And… well you know no other girl will have one… I mean to say I figure you all worry about that sort of thing, but you really shouldn't… or you don't have to."

Luna's smile widened and while she flung the necklace over her head and pulled her still free-flowing blonde mane through it, Ginny leaned over and kissed her brother on the cheek, whispering, "And all those silly wizards think Harry's the biggest hero in Gryffindor."

"So..." Harry asked as he took Ginny's hand in his own and entwined their fingers. "Where's Hermione?"

Sighing Ginny and Luna exchanged a quick disapproving glance. Gin replied, "Well, Draco let us into the common room, but she's locked up in her room, said she was working on a project and would be down later. Wouldn't even come out when Draco called her the silliest scairty-cat of a lion in Gryffindor history."

"Bloody ferret," Ron muttered. "She probably didn't want to be embarrassed being alone after coming with Krum last time. Is there any bloke who doesn't have a date yet, we could round him up for her."

"Don't you dare Ronald Bilius Weasley!" Ginny screamed. Lowering her voice, she went on, "Hermione would just feel awful if she thought we pitied her. Besides she wouldn't miss one of our last chances to all be together at a school function or—"

"Hermione!" Harry called out when he noticed her coming down the stairs from the direction of the eastern towers. She waved quickly and hurried across the room full of students meeting and heading out and towards the lake. Hermione seemed to be much more out of sorts than her last dance. Her hair was barely made into a halfway clean pile with bits and pieces falling out from either side and she was still adjusting her ruby dress into place.

"Are you alright, Hermione?" Ron asked when she reached them.

Flustered, Hermione pushed a strand of hair out of her face and answered, "I swear as soon as he's better, I'm going to kill your brother."

Shaking his head sullenly, Harry asked, "What's the sodding git done now?"

"First, he set my door ON FIRE to get me out and then told me I'd never see Crookshanks again if I didn't get out of there in three minutes. Pushed me out the front door before I had even done up my hair."

"Where is Crookshanks?" Luna asked. "Is he okay? We could go rescue him if you want!"

Smiling ever so slightly, Hermione replied, "No, I wanted to go with you all, really, I was just caught up on a transfiguration project. For all his faults, for some reason my barmy cat likes Potter. And I've seen that pile of shirts he leaves in the corner for a bed. Heavens knows why, though I have a perfectly normal cushioned pillow basket for him that Crooks just loved right up to this summer."

"Well, I heard ferrets and cats get on quite well," Ron joked.

"Alright, enough of that," Harry added as he took Ginny's hand in his own. "Let's just get down there and have a good time, eh. And if my brother would rather spend time locked up with a cat, then it's just his own problem. I plan on having a bloody good time tonight."

Ringing his hands when he saw them exchange a knowing wink, Ron grabbed Harry and his sister by the shoulders and pushed them apart to what he felt was a more respectable distance. Nodding firmly, he took Luna by the arm and offered his other hand to Hermione. Smiling tightly, she took it after a brief look towards Luna confirmed the blonde girl was quite occupied studying her date's disheveled shoulder-length red hair. Harry again closed the distance between Ginny and himself and led the way out of the main doors.

A bit down the road next to the lake, Harry smiled brightly when he saw the lawn transformed into a great dance floor complete with round tables surrounding it. About halfway down there, Ginny's roaming eyes found Fred and George sitting near some of the teachers, having an animated conversation with a smiling Bill. Seeing them all so happy, Gin wiped quickly at her eyes and squeezed Harry's arm a little tighter. The five of them sat at a table just next to the dance floor with Neville and his date, Natalie McDonald. Hermione recognized the dark-haired Gryffindor girl from several extra credit assignments they had both worked on in Herbology. During those projects, the fifteen-year-old had always seemed friendly with Neville, but Hermione quirked a smile out at the adoring look she was throwing up at a typically clueless Neville.

While Hermione dragged Neville and Natalie into a conversation about creeping thistle, Harry was distracted by the blonde-haired girl in a green dress waving to him from a few tables over. Sarah was apparently accompanied by a rather uncomfortable-looking Mitchell. Perhaps there just weren't any decent robes for younger witches and wizards. Next to them, Mary Bones looked quite happy in her ivory dress robes and her date. Harry didn't remember the second year's name, but vaguely recalled he was just about the only pureblooded student in Slytherin that still supported Draco.

"Now, Harry," Ginny whispered in his ear, "I know most of the boys at this table seem to enjoy the company of younger girls, but I think they might be a bit too much."

"Darn," he answered with a smirk. "Suppose I'm just left with you as my girl."

"Better be," she replied quickly, leaning on his shoulder.

A minute later, most of the student body of the school seemed to be in attendance. With a nod from Dumbledore, Professor McGonagall rose and addressed them all.

"Attention students," she began. "It is with great pleasure that the professors and staff of Hogwarts call to open our first ever Serenity Ball."

She paused as a round of applause spread throughout the make-shift dining area.

"And of course, this lovely feat of magic of a dance floor, I think, deserves a round of applause for our own Professor Flitwick and our special guests, Masters Fred and George Weasley."

The resounding cheering from both the Ravenclaw and Gryffindor tables could not drown out the remarks of the twins and a pair of quiet powerful Sonorus Charms.

"Thanks all," Fred roared. "Couldn't have done it without dear old McGonagall and Flitwick's classes."

George interrupted, "Which we on rare occasions attended."

"Just one note of warning, keep your charming head students away from our little project."

"That is unless you all think Hogwarts need a bog."

"Another bog that is."

"But of course, if any students need to make a bog of their own or other delightful ways of driving the teachers batty just stop by Weasley Wizarding Wheezes in any of our five locations."

"Ten precent off if you're aiming to use the gag on a prefect."

"Aye, say for instance, Ron Wea—"

McGonagall nodded her approval at her Silencing Charm and placed her wand back into her robes. Once a stern grimace silenced the remaining giggles from the students, she continued, "So if our Headmaster will grant me the honor?"

At Dumbledore's nod and a flick of her wrists, the dinners appeared before every student. Hermione picked lightly at her own Sunday roast. Glancing to her left, Ron was diligently defended his scones and sandwiches from Luna's attacking fork. He laughed at the blonde's complete disinterest in her own fried chicken. To Hermione's right, Harry and Ginny were freely mixing their meals and speaking about whether or not Gin will be able to drag her boyfriend onto the dance floor again. Even Neville and Natalie, both frightfully shy, exchanged quick smiles with one another.

Barely halfway through her meal, Hermione was dragged out of her thoughts when a standing Ginny was dragging Harry away from the table and towards the dancing. The only ones out there already were several younger students, but now it seemed as if the remainder of the school had decided to join in as Flitwick magically conducted several instruments on a floating dais. Almost immediately afterwards, Ron began mumbling an invitation only to be grabbed by Luna, who began running out towards the center of the floor with a red-cheeked Weasley hurrying along behind.

Ron was outdone in blushing by Hagrid, who found himself lead toward the floor by Fleur. It seemed as if the lovely girl had not smiled as brightly and truly in many months and Hagrid had not been like his old self in just as long. It was when McGonagall was brought onto the floor by Bill that Hermione let her head sink slightly. Looking around, there were of course many other students still seated. The entire student body, even slightly depleted as it was this year couldn't fit onto the floor at once. But the other students were in groups of friends and engaged in conversations. She really and truly felt alone.

On the floor, Ginny once again found herself swaying in place with Harry, her feet sore from the effort of trying get this nimble warrior of hers to take four steps without landing one of them on her now well-scuffed shoes.

"I'm just going to have to get you dancing lessons for your next birthday Harry."

"Sorry, Gin."

"It's alright. Besides I do fancy just being near you, even if Romilda and more than a few other students are plotting my imminent demise at the moment."

Catching the hand that she knew was reaching for his wand, Ginny chuckled and continued, "I didn't mean now, Harry. I mean honestly. They might miss and hit you and then where would the lovely girls of Hogwarts be?"

"Stuck about to be disemboweled by the red-haired demon out to avenge me?" Harry asked with a smile.

"For the sake of our lovely evening, I think I'll assume you were calling Ron a demon."

"Good idea, I think I finally figured out getting you mad is a hurt I just can't handle."

"Aren't you getting a bit of your brother's smarminess? Hmm, not sure how I feel about that. You and that big head of yours are already—"

"Big head?"

"Well, it's a nice shape at least."

"Well, praise for that at least," Harry remarked before picking her up and twirling around a few times before settling back into their normal swaying. "Your dress is nice."

"Harry, it's the same dress from the wedding," Ginny scoffed, shaking her head at her boyfriend. "I couldn't buy two dresses in the same year so Mum, changed the color and altered it a bit for me before… Sort of my last Christmas present."

Harry wrapped his arms tightly around Ginny as if holding her in place in the middle of a school of students dancing away the evening. He waited for sobs or even tears that never came. Instead Ginny took a deep breath and smiled weakly for Harry… who then stepped on her left foot.

Ron had been quietly dancing with Luna most of the ball before she finally tired enough to pay attention when a slow dance began. Of course, in his desire to appear more normal, he had forgotten this would involve her being rather close to him. Swallowing his familiar throat lump, Ron accidentially blurted out a question that had been nagging at him for a while.

"Do you like me?" After a moment with no answer, he decided to explain, "It's just you agreed to come with me and I suppose I figured you would and I wanted to go with you because you're really, really fun and funny, but not funny like I like to laugh at you, funny like good with a joke, but not mean like Fred and George, and even if Hermione thinks you believe in foolish things that aren't true, well some of them might be and then its good that you were prepared for them 'cause you never can really know for sure, I mean with magic and all and you really are very pretty and nobody but Lavender or my Mum ever thought I was even cute, but all the same you hang out with me and my mates and maybe that's just because you're friends with Ginny, but if you did like me, then you could know I like you to and we could be, I dunno, like happy like Harry and Ginny or Fleur and my brother, if you do that is… like me?"

"I like being happy," Luna replied before quickly kissing Ron and leaning her head on his chest. At that precise moment, he felt as if he shot up another three feet in height and it was entirely possible he might never stop smiling even under Death Eater torture.

Meanwhile, Hermione managed to keep a straight, even expression. Perhaps Harry or Ron would have asked her to dance out of pity if they weren't so madly in love with their current partners. Or maybe another student might have asked her if Draco had given her any decent amount of time to get ready or do anything with her hair. The night was nearly over when Hermione heard her first bit of conversation since the dancing had begun.

"Oh, boo-hoo, Granger," came a weak taunt. Looking up, Draco Potter had planted himself in Neville's former chair and was poking nonchalantly at the remainders of the meal.

Forcing a tired smile onto her face, she worked up the strength to retort, "At least I had the courage to show up with the rest. Not slithering along later like a—"

"Snake. How terribly original, Granger. You know, I honestly expected you to be sitting around sad and alone considering until your little blow-up with Harry and the Weasel you were the belle of the last ball, dancing on the arm of the one wizard that every witch there wanted to go with."

"Well, Potter, I'm glad—"

"But I never expected you to have your head down, I must have mistaken who Hermione Granger was. I figured to see you with your head held high."

Scoffing, she replied, "Well, if you actually tried it once in a while, you'd realize how hard it was. So, why are you here, Potter?"

Leaning forward, Draco asked, "Would you believe it if I said you looked so bleeding pretty... er gorgeous earlier I couldn't help but follow you?"

"No," Hermione answered immediately and definitively.

Draco leaned back and was silent for a moment before smirking and answering, "True enough. I suppose I could say I didn't want to hide… to appear beaten. I'm an outcast among my former friends, hated and distrusted. My best chance for a date was a first-year that was already spoken for. I'm alone by necessity, Granger. Why did you choose it?"

"It… it's just silly," Hermione tried to explain. "I mean there's a war going on and we're holding a dance. I understand they want to present the idea of normality and comfort the younger students, but there are more important things. I mean, you know that we have more adult and more important things we could be spending our time on."

"Gods, Granger, you are the oldest 18-year-old girl I have ever met in my life. Even the most depressing people at school… namely me and my less charming brother, need a night off now and then. Maybe that's why I came… Or maybe I wanted to keep an eye on Blaise and Pansy."

Draco's nod to the left lead Hermione's eyes there to where the two of them sat scowling in the corner. Pansy was playing impatiently with the frills on her pink dress while her partner narrowed his eyes and attempted to stare a hole into Hermione's skull. Before she surrendered to the urge to blink, Draco stood, blocking her view of the dark-haired Slytherin.

"Granger," Draco said simply as he extended his hand. Briefly, Hermione stared at it with surprise, as if he had pushed some new plant or magical creature in front of her. She was unsure if to be wary, curious or dive in to study it.

Reaching down he grabbed Hermione's hand and yanked her up, walking out amongst the dancers. She tried not to notice how they both squeezed the other's hand a bit tighter than really necessary to not lose one another in the crowd while he explained, "If I get you out there, someone will see you in your cute purple dress and rather distinctive out-of-control Granger-hair and probably ask to dance with you inside of a minute and I get to earn hero points with Harry and you can go do whatever it is young women are supposed to enjoy doing on a Friday evening."

Grabbing her waist quickly with his other hand, he smirked at her sudden intake of breath and added, "It can be a new experience for both of us."

Through an unspoken agreement neither resisted when they began moving at the same time, neither watched Blaise or Pansy sneak away from the dance glaring angrily at them, neither walked away when away when no male student was brave enough to question Draco's possessive hold and ask to cut in and neither noticed when four dances passed without a break.

Amidst the dancers, Ron remained lost staring into space, holding Luna's hand tightly until distracted by a tap on his shoulder. Turning, he smiled at Bill and Fleur, standing next to him with their arms wrapped around the other tightly.

"Hey, Bill, Fleur, having a great time? I bloody love dances."

The Weasley's chuckled briefly at Ron, before Luna whispered, "I love dances too, whatever is wrong with them?"

Ron shrugged his shoulders and Fleur explained, "Zou see, ve are 'aving a lovely time. I am zo pleased that zu _all_ are as vell."

Bill furthered the explanation by motioning towards the far left end of the floor where Draco was turning slowly with Hermione, who was smiling slightly and talking animatedly about something, apparently unconcerned by the fact that her hair had now nearly completely come undone. More than a bit of Ron wanted to revert to old rivalries and race across the floor to separate them. A smaller voice told him to ignore it. The largest influence was Luna grabbing his shoulder noticeably firmer, beating down any anger into a reluctant shrug. Ron supposed he could no more run Hermione's life than he could Ginny's… not that he'd stop trying every now and then in both cases.

Luna seemed to take the lead for a bit, swinging them around wildly twice, nearly tumbling into Hannah Abbott and Terry Boot and running over a pair of second years. But coming out of the second turn, Ron noticed their apparent destination; a near immobile pile of black and gold that signified Harry and Ginny. Lurching through a final turn, Ron's balance which had held thus far, finally gave out. Luckily, he managed to release Luna and avoid the gold blur, smacking straight into the black.

"Ron!" Harry yelled. "I was just dancing with her."

"Harry nothing you do could be mistaken for dancing, mate."

"And he thinks I've started sounding too much like his brother," Ginny remarked as she helped Luna up from where Ron had released her and she fell right on her backside. Luna popped up quickly and whispered into Ginny's ear. The Gryffindor's smile sparked instantly and was certainly wider than it normally was. The two giggled a bit and ran off quickly in a very disheartening way that reminded Harry of Lavender and Parvati.

Standing up and lifting Harry, Ron explained, "It was just what Luna brought us over here to tell you…"

Ron simply pointed off in the direction where he had seen Draco and Hermione moments ago, only to find the spot empty. Swiveling his head quickly, Ron caught no sign of them. Harry looked angrily at his friend. Besides nearly spraining his ankle, he had now lost his girlfriend. Grabbing Ron by the shoulder, he began hobbling towards his table and grumbling, "Thanks, Ron. This is just how I wanted to end the night, hanging o—"

Having cleared the crowd, Harry now stood, mouth hanging open watching Draco apparently finishing a joke and Hermione laughing uncontrollably at it. Across the table, Ginny looked at the scene with a similar expression to her boyfriend, while Luna was preoccupied with a loose strand of her hair, but Ron managed to catch on to what he assumed was her version of a knowing smile.

Harry plopped into the seat and found himself grinning at his brother and friend. Leaning towards Ginny, he quietly mentioned, "I had a feeling about those two, you know."

Ginny had barely time to grin before Draco broke in, "Oh please, Potter. If your instincts were worth shite, Granger would be pregnant with her third red-headed beast of a child. You have all the natural mating instincts of the dodo bird."

"Mating?!" Hermione coughed and let her laughter abruptly end. "We are not… no, No, NO. Potter and I are just friends; barely even friends. That's it. Just like I am with any of the rest of you."

"Except better looking and far superior for conversation," Draco added leaning back in his chair and ignoring Ron's guffaw. "So, which of you Gryffindors will simply burst from happiness now that we're all… you know."

"Friends?" Hermione asked. "I think you might burst if you ever get around to saying it, Potter. Just say it once and prove for once and all that Slytherins aren't all cowards."

"Little bit of a manipulative Slytherin in you, Granger?"

"Scared, Draco?" Harry asked.

Ron chuckled and spurred on, "Come on, Ferret. Just bloody say it before Hermione's grin swallows us all."

Hermione straightened her expression and stood, "You know we still have patrol tonight, Ronald. I'm not sure Potter's well enough yet. Care to leave the festivities and join me?"

Ron gulped and went to quietly sit next to Luna. The remainder of the table began laughing aloud at his _clever _avoidance of the conversation. Draco pushed up from the table with a slight grunt and said, "I'm fine, Granger. Can't ruin the Weasel's night can we? Wouldn't be very friendly at all would it?"

"You aren't really going, are you?" Ginny asked. "I mean most of the school is still down here. Even the professors except for… well looks like Dumbledore and McGonagall left early."

"Wonder what those two are doing?" Ron joked.

"Eww, honestly Ronald, I haven't a clue what we're supposed to do with you," Hermione remarked as she rubbed the bridge of her nose.

Draco interrupted, saying, "Finally, something I have a list about. And look, the giant squid is not too far off shore! Even looks hungry."

"Shut it, Potter."

"Pushy much, Granger?" Draco asked with a tight smile.

"I hate you," Hermione answered with little conviction. "And whether or not there are students we are responsible for what happens in the school."

"Besides," Draco added, "Blaise and Pansy disappeared some time back and I don't like the idea of them having the run of the castle."

"Want us to go with you?" Harry asked, already standing.

"Dance with Weaslette, snog a bit and call it an evening, Potter. We'll look into the scary castle."

It was a half-hour later when Harry, Ginny, Ron and Luna crossing the second floor and heading towards the Ravenclaw Tower to drop off Luna. Just after turning a corner, Harry dropped to the floor, clutching his forehead.

"Aaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrghhhh!!"

"Harry!" Ginny screamed clutching his wrists and pulling them away as if to inspect some injury. His scar burned gold, then seemed to turn purple. Ron and Luna both took a step back. Ginny dug her fingers in harder, trying to stop his screams. "Harry! Harry! Talk to me, Harry! Ron! Ron, get Dumble—"

"No!" Harry yelled before going limp and falling completely to the ground. Ginny held his head in his lap. She bent her head down low next to his near unconscious body.

Slowly, Ron asked, "Sh—should I get… I'll get Dumbledore or… or Bill and we'll—"

"Sshh," Luna said as she raised a single finger to her lips. The two of them turned their eyes to Ginny's crumpled, shaking form. Eventually, her head moved even lower, so her ear was directly over her boyfriend's lips and her hair covered both their heads like a shroud.

Without warning her head bolted up, she spoke as quickly, her voice laced with urgency, "Fourth floor by the statue of Ptolemy. Hurry, run both of you! Now!"

Ron tore down the hall to the nearest stairwell, his firm grip the only thing that allowed Luna to keep up with his wide gait. Once they reached the top floor, Ron stopped and turned his head each way. He wasn't as familiar with the corridors on this side of the castle. Luna's hand began dragging him to the left and he easily kept pace. Just before a fourth turn, she held out her arm and Ron pulled to a stop. Both pulled out their wands and Luna removed her shoes. As they tried to silently reach the corner they heard a gurgling and a male voice.

A voice from around the corner could be heard, "See that's how it's done, Draco. When you get an assignment from him you carry it out to the letter. Can you guess the special ingredient? It's his blood, so _your brother_ can feel it. You always were a failure. Lucius wanted me to tell you… next time you get the job to kill some one, no foolish schemes or backing out. You just walk up behind them and put a knife in their heart."

At this Ron took the last four steps and quickly as he could, not caring what noise he made. Luna was just a half-step behind. Their eyes quickly came into focus in the torchlight of the hallway. Pansy Pankinson stood with her wand raised at a door to a storage closet, while Blaise Zabini stood at Draco's back holding a glowing silver dagger in place just below his right shoulder blade. Draco's own wand lay discarded on the floor and his right hand was pointed at the door Pansy guarded.

Taking all this into perspective in just an instant, Ron yelled clearly, "_Expelliarmus!_"

Pansy fell back several feet as her wand rocketed toward the floor at Ron's feet. Before it had even landed on the ground, Blaise had drawn his and turned yelling off his own curse at the same instant Luna cast out, "_Protego_."

The yellow curse shattered Luna's shield as both she and Ron fell backwards. Ron couldn't bare to look at Luna and tried to ignore the pain jolting through his leg, rolling to his left he dodged a hex and cast, "_Furnunculus_."

The moment it hit, boils broke out across every exposed inch of Blaise's skin. The attack distracted his, buying enough time for Luna to cast, "_Impedimenta_."

No sooner had the dark-haired boy tripped and hit the ground then Ron's full body bind spell hit true to target. Unable to stand the pain in his right leg, Ron crawled towards the two fallen boys in the middle of the hall. Blaise' eyes burned with rage, but he seemed well and fully immobile. The boy nearby still had the glowing silver knife sticking out of his back and lay in a growing puddle of his own blood. Ron had no better idea than to pull out the knife and despite some resistance, it slid out easily enough. Still Draco barely uttered a grunt and the stead flow of blood on his robes only increased.

Throwing his outer robes over his head, Ron attempted to hold them tightly over Draco's wound. Soon after Luna crawled up next to Ron, ripping the bottom of her dress robes and tying the silvery material around a nasty cut to Ron's leg.

"Let go, Draco," she whispered.

"What?!" Ron yelled. "No, don't give up! Ginny will get help. It isn't—"

"No, Draco. It's Luna and Ron. We stopped them. Let her out."

Ron was about to question her again, when Draco let his right arm fall to his side and the door that Pansy had been guarding so diligently burst open. Hermione burst through, like a vengeance demon, wand raised before her. It only took her a moment to process everything in front of her and she could understand pretty much everything that happened. It was perfectly clear what she needed to do. She was the only uninjured person there. She had to run and get help. But for some reason, that incredible analytical mind of hers couldn't get past: saved me, Draco, blood.

A scrapping noise to her left caught her attention and before she even considered what it was her wand turned almost on its own and without uttering a word the fierce blast of red light flew from her wand, hitting a recently rearmed Pansy Parkinson square in the chest. The sheer force of Hermione's Pangodurus Charm sent her flying backwards through a plate glass window.

Even with her heart nearly pounding through her chest with adrenaline the hard reality of what she had just done hit Hermione like a jet of cold water. Before her heart cracked from the sheer grief of her mistake, she found her hand covered by Draco's and she found his eyes with her own.

Struggling to speak while coughing and spitting out blood, Draco forced out, "D—did good? Her—hero? L-ke 'Ar-r-ry?"

"Even better," Hermione whispered before she kissed his forehead and he closed his eyes.

_A/N: Once again, I do not own Harry Potter. Did I just end two chapters on cliffhangers of losing Draco? Ain't I a stinker? In all seriousness, I apologize for taking twice as long as I sad I would to get this out, but… hey… a lot going on here. I will try to be more diligent since I probably have about 20 more chapters to complete this story. But don't let my lag time effect your willingness to write reviews. Lots of good, long reviews means an inspired writer who doesn't fart around for two weeks in between updates. This was a long one, but then again, most of them are with me. The next two or three chapters should wrap up the first half of the school year and include the hunt for another Horcrux._


	16. WAR!

**CHAPTER FIFTEEN: WAR!!!!**

The Hospital Wing at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry had seen more than its fair share on magical maladies over time. Of course these last seven years seemed like a revolving door of near-tragedies, almost always involving one of the room's current visitors. Madam Pomfrey had at first persisted, as she always tried, to convince them to leave and let an injured party heal under their own time. If Pince could so uncompromisingly defend some musty old books from being bothered, Pomfrey couldn't understand why the same care couldn't be afforded the students themselves. Looking up from her desk, she could hear the Weasley boy talking far too loudly and her instincts told her to silence him so her patients could rest. Of course in this case, resting too much was the chief area of her concern.

The superficial damage of the knife was mended easily enough. Her only significant worry along those lines was going too fast and putting too much strain on the lung. It would have gone far smoother if the same area hadn't recently been operated on. The poison was easily enough identified and cured with the help of Professor Slughorn and they both silently thanked heaven that the unknown attackers weren't any better at potions or it could have been much worse. A remedy potion was quickly prepared and administered five times a day for several weeks while the poison ran its course. Still there was risk of lingering damage to the nervous system, but there was no way to discover that at the time or in the three weeks since.

For three weeks, Draco Potter had been in the same hospital bed and made no response to the living world. It was only the hope that the noisy students might actually wake the poor boy that kept Pomfrey in her office, updating her journals. She suspected waking the young man up was Mr. Weasley's primary reason for being a bit of a loud nuisance.

The entire affair was kept in the strictest confidence. Miss Weasley had shown up just as the nurse had begun shutting down for the night, dragging Harry in behind her. Soon after Professor Weasley burst through carrying one critically injured student with three more limping or walking through in his wake. Dumbledore apparently went over all the details with Auror Williamson, but the school nurse never expected to be included in those conversations. Not that some of the staff didn't pass along rumors. It was the talk of the entire school ever since in fact.

She knew obviously all the pertinent medical information; Draco Potter was stabbed in the back with an enchanted blade by at least one Death Eater. Apparently the Death Eaters found some way to torture Harry through transference of some of the pain of the attack. This attack was related to some curse separate from the poison and seemed to be the only reason Draco was still unconscious. Of course, young Harry was fully recovered in a few days and back to class the following Wednesday. Mr. Weasley and Miss Lovegood were brought in with Draco and were quickly healed from some minor cuts and lacerations. The Head Girl, Miss Granger appeared to be in shock, but came out of it quickly enough after a few days and a potent Calming Draught.

It was Finch who told her the most interesting events of that night. Apparently after meeting with Williamson, the headmaster met with Miss Granger and before the end of the night, another Auror named Tonks showed up with the former-Professor Moody and several students were rounded up and what became of them, no one is quite sure.

Sighing, Pomfrey left these details out as she continued scrawling her notes on the Ministry report. By far the most disturbing part of the night had been when Hagrid brought her… _it_ in… the body that is. Somehow the death Pomfrey had seen as a practicing nurse over some sixty-seven years had been forgotten. In 22 years at Hogwarts, last night had been the first time a student died on her watch. There were the consistent attacks five years earlier on muggleborn students, but broken bones, burns from improper potions labs and poisoned scratches from Herbology were the worst it generally got around here. Somehow Pomfrey had nearly forgotten what a dead body looked like. Hagrid had taken Snape's for safe-keeping last year, but as a student, young Miss Parkinson had to be brought to this wing.

"Far too young to be all done in life," she mumbled. The poor girl's mother was utterly devastated when they came to claim her, but… well Mr. Parkinson's cold eyes still chilled her. When it came to rumors, few flew around as quickly as who might be in league or supportive of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named. The fact that he didn't have a single question about her death seemed to only confirm the quiet whispers about the Parkinson family and their loyalties.

Out in the main chamber, Ron apparently gave up on his idea of annoying Draco to wake up and call him some cruel name. Now he found himself sitting in a chair by the door next to Luna, glancing at the clock on the wall. At this rate, it would mean no lunch again; the fifth time in less than two weeks. For all their past and probable future fights, he really wanted Draco to wake up, if for no other reason than Harry might not make it much longer.

At first it was just missing a class here or there to sit with Draco. Then meals became unimportant and that weekend some Ravenclaw third year named Markinson actually caught the snitch right out from under Harry's nose. The final straw had been last week's DA meeting that Ron had to instruct all on his own since Harry was in the Hospital Wing waiting for his brother to wake up and Hermione was updating notes. She was auditing Draco's classes so he could catch up if… whenever he woke up.

"You can go to lunch," Harry said without turning around. "I'm going to stay a while longer."

Grumbling to himself, Ron worked himself lower into his chair. It was actually Luna who stood a moment later and kissed Harry on the top of the head, whispering, "Maybe he's waiting for you to talk first."

Grabbing Ron by the arm on her way, Luna left Harry alone with his brother. Aside from a faint scratching of quill on parchment from the office at the back of the room, Luna and Ron's fading footsteps left a heavy silence in their wake.

Harry realized that he never actually tried talking to his brother to get a response. Their unusual summer together had at least managed to condition them both to sit through awkward silences without feeling the need to speak unnecessarily. Now even with the proper encouragement, Harry honestly wasn't sure what to say or do. He wanted the boy in front of him to wake up, to yell, scream, or hug… anything.

Instead, he let his head fall into his hands and rubbed his face. At this, Harry noticed the fact that both Potters had adopted their father's scruffy unshaven look. It had apparently been a few days since Pomfrey had cast that particular cleaning charm on Draco and Harry had perhaps not been paying that close attention to his hygiene lately. Watching him there with their mother's auburn hair falling around his face and his unshaven face… it really had been weeks since Harry consciously thought about his brother once being a Malfoy.

Things would get better if Draco would wake-up. Ron and he would fight, but at least it showed a bit of spark in each of them. Ginny would stop fretting over her boyfriend like he was made of glass. Hermione would dig her head out of a book and hopefully start acknowledging other people again.

"It's worse than before," Harry finally said solemnly. "I mean… it was bad enough when you were out for a few hours. But… three sodding weeks, Draco. I can't sit through a DA class without remembering how much it hurt and… well Dumbledore said I only got a bit of it. People talk and… well lately, I suppose I've talked about as little as you have. I hear them though. When even Gryffindors wonder what's wrong with me… or why I'm so… I think Ron called me disconnected. Yeah, I know, Ron Weasley made an observation all on his own; very funny brother."

Leaning forward, Harry continued, "I never wanted you to get really hurt. Even that fight last year, until S—Snape came in to the bathroom, I thought I had killed you. It was… that's not me. I didn't want to do that to even you. What if you died and nobody… what if I never found out the truth. Losing you can't happen. Draco Malfoy, the boy who hated me, dying would have been awful enough. And then… you changed everything. You were our ally and… then… just like that, you're my brother. All I ever wanted; a family. And it's one of my worst enemies. I never really gave you credit for how quick you… I couldn't do that I think. I couldn't just decide I didn't like who I was and start changing so quick."

At this point, Harry scooted his chair right next to the bed and went on, "I still think you're an arse and you always will be. It's just… nobody else can annoy any of us like you can. Weird as it sounds I miss being annoyed. I miss arguing and being challenged and having someone who… who understands losing everything. I miss watching our parents' memories with you. I miss my brother. I—"

"Git."

Harry absolutely knew he imagined it. Draco would still be hurting. The knife and Voldemort's blood had sent him into a coma. It had been weeks. Surely, Harry thought, not even he would wake without any previous indication and insult his own brother. Perhaps it was a reflex. But he looked up and sure enough two hazel eyes stared right back at him. The word had been hoarse, but it was real. Even if he looked like death warmed over, face as pale as a Malfoy and eyes lacking in too much life, he was awake.

"Madam Pomfrey!"

No sooner had the older witch heard the call then she was up and around her desk, tearing down the main aisle to the only occupied bed in the wing. She was barely in position before her wand was out, casting pain relief charms and pulling several potions from her robes and sliding them into the patient's mouth. The fourth one had a bit too much garlic and Draco coughed half of it up on his Hospital gown. Shaking her head, she chastised, "Now, Mr. Potter really. It isn't going to go down any easier the second time. I suggest you dig in and bear it. This is the Avareven potion that—"

"A muscle relaxant," Draco finished, his voice still very raspy. Hearing him, Pomfrey pulled out a pink potion and nearly shoved it down the boy's throat. This one, however, was a specialized acid that cleared and soothed the mouth and esophagus.

Harry sat back silently while Pomfrey continued swishing her arm back and forth and watched as Draco shifted in place, obviously uncomfortable being under any witch or wizard's wand without his own. At the end of a wide swish, Pomfrey held her wand steady on the tip of Draco's nose briefly before nodding and explaining, "You've been unconscious for three weeks, Mr. Potter. I shall leave you with your brother while I inform the headmaster and then we'll monitor you for another day or so to ensure everything's back to normal. But I am terribly impressed with your recovery. Now that the poison has run its course, I believe you bounced back from the enchantment portion of the attack far sooner than expected. I trust that if I do release you tomorrow evening, I shan't have to see you again for a good, long while."

Draco tipped the vial with the second dose of muscle relaxant before cringing and swallowing it in a single gulp. Pomfrey smiled tightly at him and hurried off to fetch Dumbledore. As she left the room, Draco noticed Diggle and Bill Weasley outside in the hallway, apparently his own Order bodyguards during his recovery, he surmised. Turning back to Harry, Draco saw his brother's eyes water. Harry rubbed his eyes with the sleeve to his orange sweater, pushing back tears before they could fall.

Resisting the unfamiliar urge to comfort him, Draco instead remarked, "Sorry about the git comment, Potter, but honestly, what do you expect? I wake up and the first thing I hear is how bad all of this is for you. Not that I want you to be sad and I'm not… unsympathetic, but you could have said something about my finer attributes of which there—"

"Shut up, Draco," Harry said, his voice cracking slightly. "Do you honestly think what happens to one of us doesn't affect the other? How'd you feel if we flipped spots? I… You are my brother and I love you."

A half-million responses ran through Draco's skull in an instant ranging from the noncommittal to cruel. He could shove the remark back in Harry's face, but just as many instincts told him to return the sentiment. Leaning in neither direction much, Draco simply answered, "I'm fine, Harry. Not going anywhere today. That is unless I can convince that old bat to let me walk up the stairs and go to sleep. Care to help make my case?"

Smirking lightly, Harry reclaimed his seat next to the bed and patted Draco's arm. It was more than a little comforting to trade retorts with his brother again. He broke out into a wider smile and explained, "Draco, I really don't think you want to make any case based on the last month of your life."

"A bloody month in this place," Draco repeated, soaking the information in on how much time he had lost. "I wonder if they'll throw another party after I get out this time. And classes… I'll never catch up."

"Nevermind that all. Hermione's been doubling up her notes and sitting in your classes that she doesn't have. I just… well she's trying to thank you for helping her. I talked with Ron and we're both right proud of how you protected her. Of course, Ron said you were completely mental for not hiding in there with her."

"Ah, the razor sharp wit on the Weasel. I think I missed that the most. But for a buffoon, he can certainly handle himself; cool head in a fight and all. Probably far more useful than you."

"Just for that one, I'm telling him you said it."

"Not unless you're overly fond of this room, Potter. Wand or no wand I can probably arrange a good, long stay for you," Draco retorted with a slight smile.

It turned out that with a bit of help from Harry and some support from the headmaster that Draco was allowed to return to his own room that night though Bill escorted them every step of the way. After dinner that evening, Hermione excused herself to run back and get the room tidied up, with a grinning Ginny following along to help. Once Harry stood, apparently several other members of the school figured where he was going. Ron pulled Luna away from her spot at the foot of the Ravenclaw table and by the time the three of them reached the main stairs, Sarah and her small group of Slytherins had collected Gabrielle and were following after them. Fleur quickly caught up with her sister and took her by the hand as the impromptu group marched down the hall together.

Bill was still sitting on a folding chair outside of the Hospital Wing entrance, reading a rather musty-looking textbook. Across from him, Diggle was leaning against the wall, flipping through that day's _Prophet_. Both glanced up, but relaxed as soon as they saw it was Harry leading the group around the corner.

By the time they reached the doors, the younger students had rushed ahead of Harry. Sarah led the way with Mary dragging Gabrielle after her. Mitchell tried to seem more composed half-running and half-walking a bit further back.

Draco was busy hauling himself into a sitting position, so he didn't notice anything besides the general sound of the door opening and people coming in. That is until a familiar high-pitched voice cried out, "Hey Draco!"

Stopping just before him Gabrielle greeted him, "Et iz good, you are awake. Ve mizzed you."

"Aye," Mitchell added. "But it wasn't like you'd go out to some barmy arse like Blaise anyway."

Smirking, he nodded at the younger students and replied, "Thank heavens. I was worried I'd have nothing but giggling Gryffindors to see me safely down the hall and up a flight of stairs."

Mary answered, "Nope, there's nothing to worry about with Slytherin and Hufflepuff hear to keep an eye on things."

Coming around the other side of the bed, Mitchell argued, "Well, mostly Slytherin."

"Oh please," Sarah retorted and caused the young French girl to blush heavily. "You wish your Shield Charm was as good as hers."

"Yeah," Mary agreed. "Besides things are loads better now."

"Better?" Draco asked.

Nodding, Sarah answered, "Well, Since that night Pansy died—"

"Died?" Draco asked. "How—"

"Hermione hit her with a Bludgeoning Charm when she snuck up on us and… she fell through the window," Ron explained. "It was an accident."

"Granger alright?"

"She seems better," Harry explained. "She's back to her old self, worrying about classes: hers… ours… yours. Regular Hermione."

A lull in the conversation allowed Sarah to continue, "Well since she died and Dumbledore expelled a load of students things have quieted down a bit. I heard Zabini is in Azkaban and eight other Slytherins were kicked out."

"And most of the ones left were the younger ones," Mitchell interrupted while he helped Draco stand up. "They didn't hate Sarah and you and your brother as much. Even the older ones they let stay aren't nearly as uppity as before."

"In a couple years, we might not even have to watch over our backs all day and night," Mary added.

Huffing, Draco replied, "Well done, best we clean out the trash."

Stepping towards the students, Bill coughed and spoke up, "We'd best get you back now, Draco."

Draco nodded and trying not to seem too slow on his own, began walking down the hallway. Harry hurried to stand next to him incase he needed help and Ron came into step on Draco's left.

Ron leaned closer to the others and whispered, "Aye, best to get out of here before Pomfrey finds some gauze and turns us all into mummies."

"Did they get the others?" Draco asked in hushed tones as he walked along, slower the farther he went. "Blaise and Pansy's friends?"

Harry answered, "I gave Dumbledore the whole list, but turns out Blaise stole your habit of keeping a journal, had all his contacts in the school and a couple outside of it. Even a few we didn't know about."

"Who?"

"Three Hufflepuffs, including Ernie, we never caught him though, ran off," Harry answered. "Dumbledore reckons he turned scared when it came down to assassination. I figure he was forced into it. They were threatening to kill his older sister and her family. He was just more scared than seriously a Death Eater, but still he knew about things beforehand, like the attack on the pitch. Even helped keep a look out for when you left the Serenity Ball. And then there's the two Ravenclaws we knew about, the Slytherins you heard about, but the real story was their Gryffindor."

"They had one in your House, too? Hmm, only fair I suppose."

"Deep undercover apparently," Ron broke in. "Probably meant to be there in case You-Know-Who wanted to get Harry out of the way. It was that wretched Vane girl who tried to drug him last year. Zabini wrote how he got her on board right quick on account of her being mad at Harry for being with Gin. If not for that jealous wench, you never would have almost accidentally killed me that one time."

"Ah memories," Draco mused and gave a quiet laugh to cover up needing to catch his breath.

The laugh turned quickly into a cough and he was forced to stop for a few moments and push down a reaction to the shooting pain along his right side. Angry at the difficulty he was having from simply walking down a hall, Draco spat, "So, Weasel has it been you or Goldstein covering for the absent Head Boy? Move into the dorms yet?"

"Sometimes you're as bleeding thickheaded as Hermione," Ron shot back immediately. "She's been doing it all on her own saying we don't need a temporary replacement. Even took to patrolling on her own."

"And you let her!" Draco yelled. The large group following the three stopped abruptly and held back. "After what hap—"

"Of course we didn't," Harry answered in hushed tones, reminding them they were out in the open. "Ron and I were… under the cloak the whole time, she just needs to think she can do things on her own. You know how she gets."

Catching his breath quickly, Draco marched off ahead of the rest. Ignoring the steady pain creeping up his right leg, Draco pushed on ahead practically jogging down the hall. Ron and Harry shared a confused look and quickly took off after him, followed shortly by the rest of the group, none quite sure how Draco went from hobbling along to nearly running in a few instants.

Nervous, Bill removed his wand and called out, "Draco, hold up now!"

Ignoring his teacher, Draco hopped onto a swinging stair and the remainder of the party watched as he sat down and rested while the stairs shifted. There was no good way to follow him and Harry, knowing it was futile, called out and received no response.

Several minutes later, Draco's auburn hair was sticking to his forehead and his face was flushed as he made it down the hall to his dorm entrance. Muttering the password, he set his face in a firm grimace while the friar tipped his jug and swung aside. Draco stepped forward and prepared to tear into a foolish Head Girl who should bloody well learn when she needs hel—

"Surprise!" called out several voices as Draco crossed the threshold into his common room. Breathing heavily he looked around and saw Hermione standing in the middle of the room with a confused look on her face. Above her head floated a silver sign with WELCOME BACK, DRACO scrawled in cursive black letters.

Swallowing heavily, Draco let his eyes pan left and right seeing Ginny, Neville and Natalie and a few other Slytherins that were in Sarah's group were staring at him. Stepping forward, Hermione asked, "Wh—where is everyone?"

Instead of answering, Draco grabbed her arm roughly and pulled her towards the fireplace and away from any unwanted ears.

"What the bloody hell are you doing patrolling alone?"

As if clearing cobwebs from around her face, Hermione swung her head briefly back and forth. Smiling, she answered, "It's my job to patrol with the Head Boy. I wasn't going to let them give the job you earned to someone else, not even temporarily."

"You let Weasley help out before!" Draco yelled. He quieted down before continuing, "What was different now besides it was even more foolish for you to do it? I thought of all of them, at least you had a proper brain."

"You… It was my fau—"

Draco slapped his hand none too gently over her mouth and muttered, "It was Zabini and Parkinson and if you even think of saying that I'll see you in St. Mungo's. You aren't indebted a bit for me doing w-what I wanted to do. And all this I hear about you going to my classes to get notes. What the bloody hell do you think you owe me that you don't Harry or Weasley a dozen times over?"

Pushing his hand away, Hermione appeared to be holding back tears and muttered, "It's… different. We're all best friends and it's, I suppose, all right and expected to help each other. But you saved my life and we aren't… you know, we aren't close. If you died… if you never woke up at all…even if you didn't want to be friends I can't live with something like that."

"Well, aren't we friends, Granger?" Draco asked while he cast his eyes downward.

Taking her silence badly, Draco began rambling to cover it, "I mean Weasel can't go ten minutes without cursing the fact that he and I are friends and there's Harry telling me I'm his brother and he loves me and some such nonsense. And I never even apologized to those silly gits."

"So, you really want to be… my friend?"

"Well, it's not as if I'll completely lose my mind and start calling you _Hermione_, but… friends?"

It seemed even more awkward than it looked to those staring. In fact, everyone present was not-so-subtly watching when Draco extended his hand to her. And it did look rather unusual since the two of them were standing less than a half-meter apart. Grinning a bit with eyes no longer dampening, Hermione shook his hand, "Good."

"Hermione Granger friends with a Potter," Draco mused, as he held on a bit tighter and she held a bit longer than really necessary. "Who ever saw it coming?"

Smiling a bit wider, Hermione kept her hold on his hand and pulled him back towards the rest of the group, where Neville handed him a cup of punch, saying, "Glad to see you up and about and all. Hagrid misses you in class."

"He even looked bad in the other classes," Natalie mentioned. "Just a wreck… we're hardly learning anything."

"Yes, I imagine he feels just terrible having Granger back there."

Grinning, Ginny interrupted, "Oh, that's the bright spot in his life right now. I don't know how you plan on leaving him again, Hermione."

"Well… I suppose I could keep auditing it," Hermione explained, quickly realizing where her hand still was and yanking it to her side. "I couldn't get the credit or take the NEWT, but maybe just for the sake of learning."

"Yes, I imagine learning doesn't know how to make it without you," Draco remarked with a friendly smirk.

Just then, a pounding came from the portrait and Hermione went to open it when Harry came charging, wand drawn, past Bill and into the room. Most of the occupants of the room stared at him, uncertain as to the young man's intense attitude. It was Draco who, feeling a bit winded, sat down in the large blue chair and asked, "Punch, Potter?"

"Wh—wh… you were…"

"Harry, it's fine," Hermione reassured, patting her friend on the arm. Ginny swooped in and pushed a chocolate chip cookie into his mouth.

"Well," Bill said from the doorway as the other students walked past him and Fleur, "Try not to run off again. Dumbledore wanted me to let you know you can go to Hogsmeade with the other students tomorrow, but we'll be keeping an eye out."

"A' course, zey vill see Tonks," Fleur noted. "Zhe iz not very subtle, but vill keep zu all safe. Good night. Feel bettar, Draco."

Draco shared a brief nod with his teacher while Fleur gave a quick hug to her sister and kissed a blushing Ron on the cheek. With that the Weasley couple retired for the evening. The party in the Head's dormitory stayed rather quiet, since the guest of honor spent most of the evening sitting silently in his comfortable chair watching the others. By the time Harry dragged Ron and Ginny out and back to Gryffindor Tower for the night, the others had already left. Not wanting to walk his sister through the boys dormitory in the middle of the night, Ron insisted they not take the passageway.

"Just don't get caught out after curfew," Hermione chastised. "You will be careful, won't you?"

A devilish grin from Harry and Ron did anything to comfort her, so Hermione attempted a dramatic huff before slamming the portrait shut. Turning, she looked to Draco, who was slowly walking towards his door.

"All your books and notes are at the front of your bed," she called out to his back. When he paused, she pushed loose bits of her hair backwards and continued, "Well, if you want I could go over everything with you tomorrow and you'll probably be catching up until the break, but I can go over any spells with you. I managed to get all the practicals done in charms, but I prepared some papers for you on them in case Professor Flitwick wants them. Nothing too difficult though, I'd wager you'll have them in no time at all. Defense has a lot to catch up on, but Harry and I can help you in DA—"

"Relax, Granger," Draco teased while leaning back on his doorframe. "You were right. I'll be caught up by Christmas if I push for it, but… what about the—"

"The projects? Right, I… haven't had too much time for them, but I did take… I mean borrowed a few interesting texts."

"Borrowed?"

"Borrowed… without asking," Hermione added eventually.

Smiling fully now, Draco asked, "Care to take a look at them now? After three weeks I'm all slept out for a bit."

Hermione nodded slowly before heading off to her room. She emerged just a moment later to the sight of Draco seated on the couch, tapping his quill rapidly on the journal they had dedicated for their work. Sitting next to him, Hermione set five thick volumes of text on the table before them. Pulling out another journal, she explained, "I've enchanted them so whatever either of us write will be transcribed on the permanent copy locked in my chest. It'll also cross-reference our research for us. That way if we each cover the same or related—"

"I get it, Granger. How'd you figure that one out?"

"Well, after the first few days of recopying my notes, I was just exhausted. I spent the whole evening reading Alvin Hodgepodge's _Ready-made Research Spells_."

"Well done," Draco remarked as he was handed a dusty old book. Wiping his hand across the cover, Draco paled at the dirt and read the title aloud, "_Spell Creation Basics_."

"_The Clans and Knighthood of Walpurgis_," Hermione said.

Seeing her hesitate before opening the book, Draco remarked, "This really is the turning point, Granger. No matter what Dumbledore says; I can feel it as plainly as I can a quill. This is the beginning of the end. I'll meet with him in the morning. We need to know things. The old man's tried to fight it long enough. You need to know things it's his place to tell you."

"He'll still help, even if we have to pick up some of the slack. He's just… he could never do it all alone. Nobody can."

"Maybe he tried to do it alone for too long," Draco added, turning fully to face his companion. "He wanted Harry to be a normal boy and when that failed to at least be a boy for as long as he could. But… we open these books, we step into adulthood and eventually everyone else has to follow: Harry, Ron—"

"I know," she interrupted, staring at him. "Even Ginny and Luna and… well I don't think Hogwarts has seen the last of this fight. Everyone is going to lose something before the end, aren't we?"

"I guess."

After a long silence, he continued, "But I think this matters. That we take that first step willingly, not forced or manipulated into it by anyone."

"And neither of us is taking it alone at least," Hermione added with a smile and flipped open her book. Soon Draco followed suit and for several more hours the only sounds in the Heads dormitory of Hogwarts were the scratching of two quills on paper.

The following morning before the trip to Hogsmeade, Draco met for several hours with Dumbledore. Though when asked about it by Harry, responded only that it was a private matter. As November turned swiftly to December, the Head students of Hogwarts invested literally all their time into either school business or one _private matter_ or another. Harry at first simply assumed Hermione was helping his brother catch up on his classes. However in just over a week, Draco had satisfied every teacher they shared that he had caught up to all the NEWTs-level work.

Harry couldn't really complain about the progress as the improved Healing Salve that Draco produced earned both of them a better grade in Potions than Harry's half-hearted attempts two weeks ago had. But his brother and one of his best friends were quickly becoming ghosts, locked away in their rooms every evening. Ron saw them more often at prefect meetings, but even then it was strictly business, in and out in minutes.

More than a few students were grumbling about how the school was falling apart. In the wave of expulsions, six prefects had been expelled and three Slytherins could not be replaced due to a lack of students.

The relative quiet was interrupted for once and all on the first day of winter break.

In a change, most of the students remained at school for the holidays. More than a few teary-eyed students received letters that it was too dangerous to return home. In the last few weeks, at least some Death Eaters had returned from Europe and nearly a half-dozen murders had been attributed to them, including a muggleborn Hufflepuff named Marianne Chalke, who had she not dropped out would be studying up for her OWLS right now.

This particular afternoon, Harry and Ginny were taking for themselves. He had received a letter from the headmaster requesting to meet with him that evening and with that on the horizon, Harry took the morning off. He and his girlfriend strolled hand-in-hand through the streets of Hogsmeade. They said there would just be a bit of window-shopping, but really Harry was watching for something to catch Ginny's eye for Christmas.

"You want to stop by Fred and George's shop?" Harry asked.

Ginny squeezed his hand a bit and answered, "No, they're off in London this week. But Ron might just never forgive us if we don't stop by Honeydukes. He practically begged me to pick up some Acid Pops and Ice Mice."

"Do you know what he's even doing today? Bugger wouldn't tell me—"

"Well, I don't know for sure, but I think he might be planning a bit of an escape to see Luna for a few hours. He misses her something awful."

"She just went home yesterday," Harry muttered.

Pouting, Ginny asked, "Do you wish he was here, Harry? Maybe you could think of… more enjoyable things to do with him."

Harry smirked at Ginny and answered, "Well if you have something in mind…, but maybe Ron could do it better."

"Snogging in the back of Madam Puttifoot's. Lots and lots of snogging."

"Definitely prefer you to Ron then. Definitely."

Smiling, Ginny dragged him down the street, explaining, "Well, Luna once told me he was quite good at it. Of course, I insisted we never talk about my brother and making time ever again. Actually, let's go to the Three Broomsticks!"

Without waiting for an answer, Ginny began pulling him down the street. Mostly Harry was delaying; trying to memorize the name of the shop they had just passed. Ginny had glanced more than once at a gold bracelet in the window. For all the times his brother claimed he was thick as a block of wood, there wasn't much Harry could miss if he was looking for it.

No sooner had Ginny led the way into the building than she was pulling him toward a corner booth.

"Hi."

Of course, when Harry wasn't looking for something, it occasionally took some time to catch on. In this case, his date was already sitting in the booth before he took notice of the others that had apparently just arrived and sat down. Hermione was next to Ginny and Draco across from them was shoving what looked like a journal into his bag.

"Hello, Gin," Hermione replied. "Shouldn't you be up at the school?"

Glancing quickly between the two of them, she answered, "Well, Harry has a meeting with Dumbledore so I'm treating him to a worry free day. Say… shouldn't you two be up at school, too?"

"We're on an errand for Dumbledore," Hermione explained quickly. "We were just on our way back from the Hog's Head."

"Oooohhhh," Ginny broke in with a smile. "And this mission to a bar including sharing a couple butterbeers at a different shop. No, no, I see perfectly. I imagine Honeydukes and maybe the book store next. Pity, Madam Puttifoot's was a bit more out of your way."

Hermione simply blushed at the unspoken accusation and Draco brushed his hair out of his face before taking a first swig from his drink. Harry plopped down next to his brother and glanced down, failing to see what Draco was hiding in the bag beneath his feet.

"So," Harry began while his girlfriend went to grab them a couple of drinks from Madam Rosmerta, "what was the errand?"

Before Hermione could say the words on the tip of her tongue, Draco answered, "I'm sure he'll tell you about it later if you ask. But besides that, it's a bit of a private matter."

Harry frowned and was going to argue. He was getting damn tired of the phrase, but Hermione explained, "Don't worry Harry, you know we can't betray the headmaster's confidence anymore than we would yours."

"At least you know all your dark secrets are safe," Draco added with a smirk.

It was only then that Harry turned to see Ginny just as she grabbed his arm and yanked him away from the booth. Hermione and Draco quickly stood and followed along. It seemed most of the crowd in the restaurant was gathered around a corner where an elderly couple had been listening to the Wireless. Squeezing between several other wizards, Harry held Ginny's hand tightly and soon they could hear an announcer.

"_--truly a dark day in the history of the wizarding world. Once again, this morning England was mercifully spared in the single greatest coordinated attack upon our people in the last 400 years. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has carried out a massive assault on Europe. It began just after sunrise in Paris._

"_Several unidentifiable curses were fired into the Floo Network, shutting down all Trans-Atlantic and Mediterranean connections, as well as those across the Channel. With Europe isolated, the attack began quickly. The International Confederation of Wizards lost all contact with six branches. In these attacks, it is believed the wizarding elite of the continent were lost, some 80 witches and wizards. Dragon caretakers in Bulgaria held off a vicious assault that resulted in more than two-dozen deaths and the theft of eight as yet unidentified dragons. _

"Charlie…" Ginny whispered and Harry put his arm over her shoulder. Behind them Hermione wiped tears from her eyes and Draco stared at the floor, keeping his thoughts and feelings locked and private.

"_The school of Durmstrang is currently under siege by some forty Death Eaters. But the school still stands, cut off from the world and fighting for their lives. Due to incomplete reports and the long-standing secretive nature of the school, English Aurors are at a loss as to where to send help. The worst reports of all come from Paris, where He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named appeared in person at the head of a group that began the day walking openly on the street of the NAME wizarding neighborhood and moved into a entirely Muggle community. The total death count in Paris has been confirmed at 387 Muggles and thirty wizards, most of muggleborn or halfblood birth. Smaller attacks of a similar nature occurred in Germany, Sweden, Russia, Poland, Austria, Italy and Greece. The Greek Ministry has reportedly been completely destroyed. Our own Ministry has no explanation._

"_Wizards from many nations have begun a rapid exodus to England. Emergency portkeys have been requested to bring over entire families that some witches and wizards have been forced to leave behind. The general sentiment seems to be that England is the safest remaining nation on the Continent as the home of the Boy-Who-Lived, Harry Potter, and perhaps the only wizard feared by You-Know-Who, Albus Dumbledore. Large crowds of refuges are expected to descend on the village of Hogsmeade and the surrounding community in the following days. Minister Scrimgeor is currently working on establishing a long-term refuge camp near London and promises a swift response with plans to address the nation on the Wireless and the nation's Floo Network tonight at eight o'clock. Firm estimates may not be available for weeks, but already it seems assured that today's deaths will number well into the hundreds with nearly 3,000 expected refugees seeking sanctuary in the United Kingdom._

A sharp tugging on his shoulder brought Harry around as the report began to cycle from the beginning again. Harry noticed the entire room staring at him as his brother pulled them towards the door. Madam Rosmerta was quickly behind them escorting them out the door. Once outside she leaned towards Harry and whispered, "Best be off to Dumbledore, Mister Potter. Let him know we in town will help keep them away from the school groundsand keep him informed of the goings on."

"Thank you, ma'am," Hermione said over Ginny's shoulder. The younger girl was crying openly now; barely holding herself together.

Harry grabbed her hand and squeezed as tightly as he could. Pushing her chin up to look at him, he explained, "Charlie is smart enough to make it through. Let's get back to the school and tell them right away. We have to go now."

Ginny nodded and leaned up a bit to push her lips to Harry's. While the two students lost themselves in one another briefly, Draco and Hermione each subconsciously took a step back, as if they were intruding on the couple in the middle of the street. Hermione found her eyes drawn to Draco's before he quickly broke away, scanning the street around them. Picking up on his obvious concerns, she found her own wand in the pockets of her robes and grasped it firmly.

Stepping forward again, Hermione coughed and interrupted, "Harry… Gin… word will spread quickly and soon there will be people arriving from all over Europe. They've probably already started. We—"

"We need to get back," Harry finished. A moment later the four students were racing as fast as they could back to the school.

When they reached the front door 15 minutes later, the school was as quiet as ever. It seemed the student body in general wasn't aware of what was happening yet. They were just entering when Draco grabbed Ginny's hand and pulled her away from Harry, who was about to question his brother when the auburn-haired Potter began issuing orders.

"I'll take her to Bill and set him on finding out about the other brother. Potter, go tell Dumbledore if he doesn't already know and stay with him until I get back or he releases you. Let him know I'm putting the plan we discussed into action now. Granger, get the prefects together now. They need to keep their Houses in order. One hundred and fifty students are about to go mad. Don't worry about security or patrols, I expect a few Aurors to be in place by nightfall."

"Wait!" Hermione called after him. "What plan? When will you—"

"When I can," Draco interrupted now moving quickly off towards Bill and Fleur's room in the East Wing. Just like that they rounded the corner and were gone. The two remaining Gryffindors stared at each other for a moment. With a nod of reassurance from Harry, they set off in opposite directions.

Dumbledore, it turned out, was well informed on what was going on, but insisted that Harry remain with him for the time being. True to Draco's prediction, Williamson was there within the hour. A contingent of five Aurors would be permanently stationed at the school and would be responsible for security. Dumbledore only consented on the condition that he be allowed to choose the Aurors. Harry noticed the headmaster ended up selecting Tonks, Shackleford and three that had no connection to Dumbledore or the Order what-so-ever. Williamson even cracked a smile when Dumbledore requested that he be among those responsible for the safety of the area.

It was only after the young Auror left that Dumbledore frowned and hobbled over to the fireplace. In a minute, the misshapen face of Mad-Eye Moody appeared.

"Evening professor," the ex-Auror began. "Suppose some Ministry boy just left?"

"Yes, it seems Mr. Williamson will be our guest for the foreseeable future, along with Nymphadora, Kingsley and two from your approved list: Mr. Jeter and Ms. Keith."

"Good Aurors, they won't let you down unless they've slipped quite a bit lately. We free to speak, sir?"

"I can assure you the connection is secure and incapable of monitoring. Just the two of us and Harry," Dumbledore replied, gesturing to the young man, who stepped forward.

Moody nodded sharply at the student and went on, "His brother was by just awhile ago. Collected his packages and on his way, damn fool."

"Now, Alastor, you know it's only out of urgency if Draco was a wee bit terse—"

"Called me a cranky, over-protective, wand-happy old fool!"

Harry smiled and shook his head briefly. Draco and Moody seemed too much alike in attitude to get along well. And his brother still held it against the older man for Barty Crouch, Jr. turning him into a ferret a few years ago. That summer, they had an extended argument on the subject. It all came down to one point in Draco's opinion. _When I look at him I feel an incredible urge to crawl inside a recliner. That's just bloody wrong_.

The rare bit of giggling from the headmaster earned a gruff smirk from the face in the green flames. Moody coughed to clear his expression and continued, "Either way, he knows what he's doing it seems. I got a brief going over of the plan. It's… unusual."

"I suppose," Dumbledore added, "the main point is, do you see any flaws in it?"

Moody shuffled a bit and took a puff from his pipe before answering, "Contact could be a problem, but if we take the right steps it might turn out just fine."

"Sir, what is…" Harry began. "What is Draco doing? I know you two have been meeting in secret ever since he woke up. You're planning for something."

Dumbledore nodded and looked to Moody, who terminated the connection. The older man motioned to the couch in the middle of his office. Harry took a seat quickly and Dumbledore slowly moved over and took the place next to him.

Leaning closer, the headmaster began, "I fear we haven't spoken as much as we did last year, or as much as I would like, Harry. I have been… preoccupied. And after the strain you've been under since the attack I wanted you to have a—a bit more time."

Shaking his head, Harry said, "Sir, with all due respect. I haven't been normal in nearly seven years. I haven't been a boy since the night in the graveyard. If the prophecy is true… If it is my fight at the end… I liked being just plain Harry. A normal… well normalish wizard with friends, a girlfriend and a brother. But I can't be a boy anymore. This… this is too big. I won't let my waiting cost anymore lives."

Dumbledore looked downward and a pair of wet blue eyes looked up and met Harry's. The older man explained, "I have located the cup. I think… perhaps you could hunt it down and destroy it this holiday."

"I suppose that's what Ron would call a good Christmas present," Harry remarked.

Nodding, Dumbledore continued, "Draco will most likely be gone for a few days… perhaps a week. It really was a wonderful idea. Moody had thought to interrogate Zabini and MacMillian and two others that might know something worthwhile, but your brother had a truly brilliant idea."

"Well, he does take after me. What did the genius do now?"

Dumbledore broke into a hearty laugh and explained, "Why get the information they know when we can have all the information they can figure out? Draco let them go."

"He wh—"

"As spies, bound to him by the Unbreakable Vow, to neither through action or inaction betray Draco's wishes or goals and maintain his confidences. Of course, if word of his actions were to leak, it would only be too easy for a trap to be laid out and Draco to be captured or worse. Since it is his risk, I do ask that you keep it to yourself; even from Mr. Weasley and Ms. Granger. It is his life, so the decision should be his. I'm telling you only because he… Draco has always said you, if no one else, should be told _everything_. I hope you remember that later, my boy. I… I might not be able to go with you on this next hunt, but you still have allies."

"I know. Ron's loyal, a good strategist and keeps me honest. He's good… the kind of good that would step in front of a killing curse for a stranger. If anyone besides you can figure out Voldemort's puzzles its Hermione. Draco… he compliments her I suppose. He sees things from a different angle."

"And then there's you."

"I'm n—"

"What I did in the cave… how I have been able to find these Horcruxes… they are powerful magical artifacts. Knowledge like some men can accumulate in 150 years, like Miss Granger treasures is there for anyone with the drive. Knowing, now that Harry, just knowing the ways… the feeling of magic in the same way a bird knows the sky is home or the tortoise knows to go to sea, now that is the rarity. You are someone who... I think… knows things. You have a great deal of power, Harry Potter. If you trust yourself it will be there."

Looking downward for a moment, Harry decided, "We'll leave next week, just before the holiday. Hopefully, no one will even notice we're gone. The four of us… where are we going?"

"An island rich in the Dark Arts," Dumbledore said. "The journey won't be as easy as our last. This is… Tom Riddle did something on this island. Some definitive moment on the journey that made him Voldemort. Another truth I leave to you, Harry."

"We'll figure it out, sir. Just like all the rest."

A moment later, a portrait behind his desk caught his attention and Dumbledore smiled a bit wider.

"You know, my first day as headmaster, I was terrified of the history of the position. Living up to the greatness of the past and a world ever drawing nearer this conflict over blood and birth and other immaterial things, I was worried…"

"Sir?"

"Fortescue was out of Ravenclaw House. He was a reformer who wrote most of the revised Rules of Student Conduct. A good influence I thought to temper my more… mischievous ways. Lately, I've wondered about what will happen after I pass the office off to another. I think Professor McGonagall will follow me and I expect Dilys will get the place of honor. They have a great deal in common and of course some Gryffindors love to stick together."

"Weren't… when did…"

Dumbledore chuckled and asked, "When your brother is headmaster, I wonder if I might be over his desk?"

Harry coughed and managed to quickly stand up and sit down again. "When… Professor, sir, what are you talking about? You aren't going anywhere. And Draco… why do you think he'll be… no offense to my brother, but he isn't nearly as…"

Smiling, the older man explained, "Just a feeling Harry. Just… an old man's intuition. I've spent quite a bit of time with him these last weeks and… I'm sorry. Just an old man's intuition I assure you."

Harry let it go only so he could receive the specifics on the Horcrux location and return to Gryffindor Tower in time for the Minister's address. While walking along a fourth floor corridor, he glanced outside. Campfires by the hundred could be seen on the far side of the lake and a faint glow on the horizon indicated a wide-awake Hogsmeade. Even if only a tenth of the refugees came to stay near Hogwarts that still meant hundreds of families.

Once in his common room, Ron was at his side in a flash. Pulling him towards a corner, away from many staring eyes and straining ears. Whispering to him, Ron explained, "Charlie's alive. Bill found him about an hour ago in one of the main camps near the Hungarian border. Quite in the thick of it, but he pulled out fine. Said the Death Eaters stole dragons… Must have some real good trainers."

"Where's Ginny?" Harry asked, eyes surveying the room. Hermione was there in one of her favorite old studying chairs, wringing a handkerchief in her hand and talking to some of the younger students. The children looked more than a bit terrified at everything that was happening. Neville was near the steps to the boys dormitory, talking quietly with Dean and Seamus. But there was no sign of the youngest Weasley.

"Believe it or not, she's in the Slytherin dorms," Ron said in a more normal tone. "Gabrielle was awful shaken up by everything, so Ginny and Fleur took her down there. She's a bit close with that Witchett girl and her lot. The whole dorm must be a bit torn up without Draco here. Where'd he off to anyway?"

Harry lowered his voice again and answered, "Doing something totally mad that could get him killed. But it's his life on the line so he'd have to be the one to tell you. It… it just isn't my place."

His best friend grimaced a bit before nodding and leading Harry to a couch not to far from where Hermione was speaking to a rather large group of lower years. She was in the middle of a sentence when the Floo turned green and a familiar large face stepped into view. The room hushed up immediately and everyone gathered closely around the flames.

Scrimgeor neither frowned nor smiled, but looked forward with a stony and determined gaze.

"My fellow wizards and witches of England," he began evenly. "As you have all heard throughout the day, You-Know-Who and his followers laid siege to much of Europe today. Through the hard work of our own brave Aurors, we have been spared the worst of it. Now the wizarding folk of Europe need our aid and we will not fail them in this. A permanent refugee camp is currently being established outside of northern London and we must advise all European wizards to report there as soon as possible and not burden our own citizens or risk exposing ourselves to the muggles."

"Given the fact that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named is at war with us, it is now necessary that I shall, in the morning, present for Wizengamot ratification, a formal declaration of war between the Ministry and the organization known as the Death Eaters."

The whispered conversations spread through the room like wildfire. Most of the eyes in the dormitory came to bear on Harry, who only looked downward, as if he could feel the weight of them on his back.

The Minister For Magic pushed onward, "We have no choice but to defend our nation and people. In this spirit, the Aurors will act no longer as a police, but an offensive force we will wield in this battle. To strengthen our ranks, any recent or current seventh-year student of Hogwarts may, at the completion of their studies enter into an accelerated training regiment. I encourage all the brave young souls who consider it. I know are they, like many of us, are willing to place service to the nation first to join this program."

Leaning close, Ron whispered, "I bet he'll try and get you to join. Force you into it."

Harry swallowed a brief lump in his throat and almost immediately, Scrimgeor continued, "I know the Boy Who Lived, Harry Potter, can be counted on to lead this surge of patriotism. There can be no turning aside until complete and utter victory is achieved. The Ministry will issue instruction and statements through _The Daily Prophet_. Until then I remind you that we rose today a people free of those who would divide and destroy us. Tomorrow you will wake in the same world. Goodnight."

The floo connection faded and the Gryffindor common room became deafly silent. Hermione was patting the back of a lonely muggleborn first year named Andrew. Ron looked downward into his lap and fiddled with his thumbs rather than joining the rest of the room. Every other set of eyes slowly, but inevitably rose and focused in on the raven-haired boy in the middle of the couch.

Harry shook his head, but couldn't beat back his confusion. He had wanted to become an Auror for years and now the opportunity was right in front of him. But if he had accepted anything in the last few years it was that he wanted didn't matter as much as what he needed to do. Defeating Voldemort was the most important thing he might ever do in his life.

"Bloody Ministry," he muttered. The few close enough to hear him assumed he didn't want to join and were more than a little confused. The days when anyone in Gryffindor doubted the courage or fortitude of one Harry Potter were long past. But none of them truly understood him, except for Ron and Hermione. The Ministry didn't know how to really defeat Voldemort. They knew nothing about Horcruxes or bids for immortality.

"Maybe I should tell them all," Harry said several hours later when it was just the three of them in the common room. Ginny had returned and promptly passed out on couch clutching Harry's hand. Of course, it was only after she forced her boyfriend not to run off and fight in a war led by "that damnable Rufus Aloisius Scrimgeor."

"Don't be a bloody moron!" Ron retorted. Hermione and Harry both stared at him a moment before he explained, "Well, Ferret isn't here so someone had to say it. You know what he's always saying. The more people who know about this, the worse it is."

"Ron's right," Hermione added, nodding slightly. "If we don't destroy the Horcruxes first, then it's all for nothing. I mean, does it really matter if someone kills Voldemort only for him to come back in a year or five or twenty?"

"I want to stop him," Harry said. "I've wanted to stop him almost as long as I've known he existed. But everyone expects me to… be that bloke. The one leading the charge… it's like I'll be just a big disappointment if I'm not."

Hermione rose from her chair and squeezed in between her two best friends. Sighing, she patted the hand that held Ginny's and explained, "Does it really matter what they think? People think you're a hero and nothing else. But I know you. I know there's quite a bit more to Mr. Harry Potter than being a hero. You're a great Quidditch player. You have a great sense of… a sense of… you do what best because you have a good heart. You're funny… well not as much as Ron, but still rather funny. And you care about everyone, even people who don't give a darn about you."

"Yeah mate, look at Dad," Ron added. "He always tried to make things better for muggles and make the world safe. Nobody ever gave him a lick of credit for it and they never will. Never cared what people thought of him, long as he did right. You're good like that… Both of you are."

"All of us are," Hermione corrected and took Ron's hand in her own.

Harry smiled and admitted, "It's nice to have you both on my side. It'll make it easier."

His two friends remained silent perhaps against their natural instincts. But this was their friend's fight and if nothing else, they needed to let him lead the way.

"We aren't going to do anything for now except search for the Horcruxes—"

"And finish school," Hermione interrupted and Ron groaned a bit.

Smiling, he corrected, "And finish school. But after we aren't joining the Aurors, or hiding in the muggle world or doing anything except this job. At least not until we finish this. If we want to end it, then it can bloody well end now. I want… I want Gin to stay with her family at the Burrow and be safe. I… I need her to be safe. But we're going to stay at Headquarters and with Dumbledore and the Order, we'll stop him. Dumbledore will know what to do. We can trust him to set us right."

If Ron nodded a bit and Harry continued to stare at his fingers interlaced with Ginny's, neither had a chance to see Hermione's eyes drift towards the dying fire before them. The boys didn't see the single tear escape her eye and cut a path down her left cheek.

"Okay," Ron quickly agreed. "I wanted to be an Auror for a lot of reasons… but after all we've been through you'd best know I'm in it to the end."

"So am I," Hermione added. "It might be a challenge, but we can beat it. I think it'll be okay."

Sniffling a bit, Ron spoke up again, "'Course you know we're with you all the way… sneaky Ferrets and all. So what are we doing now?"

So before this long and trying day ended, Harry sat up late with his best friends and relayed everything the headmaster had explained earlier that evening. And while other young witches and wizards across Europe thought of wars and grand battles, three young students at Hogwarts carved their own path to do nothing short of saving the world.

_A/N: First off, I do not own the Harry Potter novels or any of the characters created by JK Rowling. I know it's been an age and a half (well three weeks) since my last update, but I continue to push ever onward. I'm certainly thrilled at the increase in reviews and hits the last several chapters have gotten and the increased response is thrilling. Quite a lot of people read and write fanfiction for smut or fluff or just see some pairing they support get together. Hey, I know. I'm one of those people. But this story I try to drive with the plot. And those moments are in there. Our little Draco/Hermione moments seem to be increasing by the chapter and those two are approaching a defining moment. On the subject of our favorite Slytherin, I know he sort of takes a backseat in the second half of the chapter and then disappears entirely for a bit, but I just needed a scene with Harry, Ron and Hermione. I really missed their interactions… the particular beats of their relationship. Until later, please review. Gimme something to keep the creative vibe going and I'll return with more._


	17. The Quest Continues

**CHAPTER SIXTEEN: THE QUEST CONTINUES**

While some families were placing stars on Christmas trees and welcoming home relatives for the celebration of peace and love, the students and faculty of Hogwarts felt as if on the edge of a knife. With the singular exception of a Christmas feast in the Great Hall, there were no festivities planned. With a majority of the students staying at the school, it seemed especially odd and disconcerting that it remained so quiet and subdued. Even the ceiling of the Great Hall remained overcast and dark. All the consistencies of life that made Hogwarts such a safe and comforting place for Harry were off kilter.

It seemed average distractions like schoolwork or Quidditch didn't matter to anyone given what was happening. Of course, Ron and Hermione were both too concerned with what they were planning for the following weekend. The relief of seeing Draco walking in for breakfast one day and taking a place near Sarah was a short-lived one. His brother seemed to accept Dumbledore's plan so easily that Harry was now wondering if he had helped form it.

The steady relationship between the headmaster and his former attempted assassin was unsettling for Harry on several levels. It wasn't jealousy… _well, it wasn't entirely jealousy_, he admitted to himself in a rather truthful moment. But they were meeting so often and between Draco's spying and whatever it was he and Hermione were working on in private, it was obvious one of the Potter brothers was out of the loop on quite a bit.

"Promises," he found himself muttering Friday morning over his breakfast. The eggs were quickly forgotten. It wasn't as if he had much of an appetite to begin with. They were leaving late that night, hoping to be back by Christmas morning on Sunday without anyone being the wiser. And now all he could think about was the hours after Sirius died. Everything had seemed more dark and hopeless than ever before. Dumbledore had promised not to leave him in the dark again.

But then the search for the Horcruxes became the focus. It was Draco who had to teach him even the most basic Occlumency abilities. It was Bill who was pushing him to improve his nonverbal magic, something he could still only do rarely and mostly in the heat of the moment. The cold truth was that he wasn't ready and Voldemort was done waiting.

Things were only getting worse every day. To try and slow or prevent the Death Eaters from returning to England, Scrimgeor announced new initiatives by the day. Most recently, the Floo Network Authority had disconnected the island from the remainder of the world, the only exceptions supposedly under Ministry control. Seamus had been raging for 24 hours solid about how this included Ireland and his family on the other side.

Recent security additions made the school seem far less welcoming than it had ever before. Even Dementors patrolling the grounds, while terrifying, were like the inconvenience from a simpler time. Of course Dumbledore worked hard to make things seem a bit more normal. All the students saw were the five Aurors patrolling the halls every day. But no students were to be permitted to leave until the close of the year unless their parents wanted to claim them and take them home. This included a firm rule of Hogsmeade being utterly off limits. Harry had even checked every secret passageway he could remember, but it appeared that the headmaster knew about and sealed off all of them.

Glancing around the hall, Harry noticed it was only sparsely populated with a single Slytherin, three Hufflepuffs and a first year Gryffindor named Martin. The boy glanced at Harry considerably, but hadn't yet worked up the courage to approach the celebrity. Even at the head table, only Bill and Fleur were present, silently picking at their breakfasts. Most likely they were only up because they had finished the last patrol of the night. According to Hermione, the Aurors were patrolling the corridors and grounds during the day, but at night it was up to the prefects and staff to keep an eye on everything.

Never what one would call an early riser, Harry wished the prospect of leaving tonight didn't weigh so heavily. Ron certainly had no problem sleeping the night before a grand adventure. But whatever Hermione and his brother were doing was keeping them up to all hours. Tired and bored but able to sleep, Harry snuck down his secret hallway just a couple hours ago to their dormitory to see if they were wide awake as well. The two Head students were sitting, passed out on the main couch in their common room, Hermione leaning against Draco's side, her hand resting on his chest and head cushioned under his right arm. Trying to ignore the rather comfortable position they were in, Harry followed his curiosity to the books out in front of them. He covered his attention with concern by taking a blanket off the back of a nearby chair and draping it over them.

The list was not entirely reassuring. A few books that caught his eye were named _Transfigurations Never to Try_, _Adaptive Magic for a New Century_, _Battle-Ready Occlumency_, _Potions of the Masters_ and _Advanced Healing Salves and Potions_. He also recognized several titles from the Restricted Section, which was unnerving since Pince never released more than a couple at a time to any single student, not even Hermione. Glancing at the two books open in front of them, it appeared Draco preferred to take his notes in… _it might be Greek_, Harry thought. Hermione's on the other hand were in Latin and though he knew a few phrases, he couldn't really make anything out.

When he leaned closer, Hermione must have sensed something because she adjusted her position briefly. Harry took one final look at them and decided his late-night curiosity had definitely evolved into intruding and quickly made his way back to his own room. Still unable to sleep, he now found himself one of the first in for breakfast.

Finishing his meal, Harry was tired and put-off by how in the dark and useless he felt. At least he wasn't hungry anymore. Glancing at a clock hanging from the hallway, Harry noted the time as just a bit after seven. Most of the vacationing students wouldn't be up for at least a few more hours. He had packed a bag for his trip the night before, so he only had to meet with Draco, Hermione and Ron in the headmaster's office after dinner. Before that he had to meet Ginny for a Christmas gift exchanging in case he wasn't back in time.

With plenty of time to kill and no real desire for sleep, Harry began trudging up to Dumbledore's office. If his brother wasn't going to explain things, somebody bloody well would. One doesn't fulfill their destiny by allowing secret meetings and plans to go on behind his back and he certainly wasn't some wide-eyed first year anymore.

Once past the gargoyle, Harry paused outside the door and realized it was perhaps a bit too early. After a moment's hesitation, Harry heard a voice call from inside, "Do come in, Harry."

Opening the door, he saw the headmaster sitting in his chair with a thick burgundy blanket wrapped around him. Underneath, it appeared his was still in his nightgown. Setting down the quill that he had been writing with, Dumbledore forced a tight smile onto his face and continued, "I've been expecting you."

Sitting in his usual chair across the desk, Harry replied, "Well I sort of expected—Sir, after Sirius… after we lost him, you told me it was wrong to keep things from me and now… well you've pretty much admitted to hiding things."

"I suppose I have," Dumbledore mused mostly to himself. "Even with some good intentions and some… rather selfish ones, I think perhaps it is more than time to tell you everything. The liquid I needed to drink to try and recover the locket… Harry, I'm afraid I—I'm not going to be here much longer."

"Are you sick?" Harry asked, rising up a bit in his chair. "Are you leaving school? We—I... Professor… you're needed and… and… … … you aren't talking about just leaving the school are you?"

The headmaster looked towards he desk, unable to meet the young man's eyes while he nodded a solemn confirmation. The room fell into a heavy silence and when Dumbledore finally did raise his gaze, the sight brought a stream of tears to his eyes. Harry was looking at nothing in particular and hovered his view somewhere between Fawkes sitting on his perch preening himself and the foggy windowpane. His damp eyes quickly gave way to wet cheeks.

Swallowing his sniffles, Harry forced out a brief question. "How?"

"A complicated poison similar to the one used on the knife Mr. Zabini attacked your brother with. I was concerned and worried when I heard this, but apparently Draco was exposed to a milder dose that was tainted with Voldemort's blood as part of the spell to attempt to kill you as well. In my case, however, there is nothing that has not been attempted that can be."

"I'll tell Hermione… she'll… she can think of something."

Smiling just a bit, Dumbledore explained, "As much faith as I have in her, I fear she isn't nearly the potions expert that Professor Slughorn is, or a healer on par with Madam Pomfrey. Besides that… Harry, I have informed Miss Granger already."

Harry looked back to him for a moment and the pain in his eyes was obvious. For the moment, he held his tongue.

"It was… your brother figured it out on his own and she needed to be informed to help him on several errands for me. You see; I have many affairs to get in order. While Professor McGonagall and Weasley have helped me place the school in good hands, I needed others to help in your quest for—"

"My quest!" Harry yelled through his tears. "That's it. It's mine and everyone else knows more that me. You shouldn't die for me! I… I should have known. I could have helped you. I might've done—"

"Harry—"

"No! I could have done something or at least… anything. I—I would have helped. I lo—care about you… and Hogwarts and stopping Voldemort. Why didn't you let me? Why do I always have to be in the dark?!"

"Not in the dark," Dumbledore answered quietly. "Harry… you have the weight of our world on your shoulders. I wanted… I hoped that I could hold things off and you could have a bit of time to be a child before the circumstances of your life forced you to be a man. I never… Perhaps I was blind to some things. I saw in you a kind-hearted boy who didn't deserve to lose your parents, your brother… I wanted to spare you."

"I never wanted to be spared. I only wanted to help. I j-just… how long until…"

"I doubt I will see the New Year," Dumbledore answered, honestly and solemnly.

And the pain and hurt that had imbedded itself high in Harry's chest, he pushed down. He thought of what others were losing that very moment because of this war, steadied his expression and dried his tears.

Looking back to the wizard who had guided him for nearly seven years, Harry asked, "What do I do next?"

Returning the more serious tone, Dumbledore explained, "I have failed to locate anything more about the identity of the Horcruxes than we knew last spring. The resources I have, books and contacts, have either already been delivered to your brother and Miss Granger to continue the research for you or will be delivered by the end of break. I have… left instructions for you to take up leadership of the Order of the Phoenix. You are right Harry, you can only lead from the front."

"Should I… do you think I should stay in school?"

Smiling a bit wider, he replied, "I believe until something new is discovered there is no better or safer option. It isn't as if it would serve any great purpose. Every step you take towards having a full life after Voldemort is dealt with... I enjoy dreaming of such times. Finish your education, Harry. Listen to your instructors and learn all you can. You may have incredible natural talent, but skills can always be honed. I… I know you want this fight to come and be over with, but all things must be done in their own time."

"Are you in much… does it hurt?" Harry asked and found his eyes dampening again.

"I'm thankfully not in too much," Dumbledore answered. "For the last few months, I have been less and less useful for much magic and… well perhaps this Christmas just seems a bit chillier than ones past. Although, I do look forward to the feast, I've heard the house elves are working up a delightful roast. And I've always found somehow they make the most delicious Christmas pudding that I've ever had the privilege to taste."

Harry shared a brief and happy smile with the older man and remarked, "I wonder if they might save me some."

"Harry, my lad, I will make certain of it."

Several hours later, Harry walked out past the stone gargoyle and stuffed his hands into his robes before starting off down the hallway. It seemed talking everything over, just being with Dumbledore and knowing the whole truth made the entire situation more understandable and the once massive weight in his chest seemed far lighter.

The passages were a bit more crowded than before, but still the castle was, for the most part, a quiet place. The bells would be ringing to announce lunch soon, but with little appetite Harry wandered around for a while before finding himself looking up the stairs to the Astronomy Tower.

Taking the steps two or three at a time, Harry quickly found himself looking out on the school grounds, covered in a thick layer of white snow. In the distance over the lake, smoke rose over the hills from the roofs of Hogsmeade and the camp that had sprung up on its western border. The lake itself was frozen over and the shadow of the squid beneath it moved in slow circles near the middle. There were actually many more students outside on the grounds than there were walking the halls. A large group of older students had started a snowball fight near the edge of the forest, while couples walked the path leading towards and around the edge of the lake. The smallest dots were the youngest students making snowmen off in the direction of the Quidditch pitch. A small army of them had been erected, nearly two dozen in all.

Two lines of smoke indicated Hagrid had a roaring fire going and he was cooking something on his stove. Eventually, Harry found himself looking straight downward and his heart stopped for just a moment.

The vision seemed as clear as any actual memory. _A sacrifice for someone you love, a killing curse from Snape and a body falling from the highest tower of the building_. Harry found himself staring straight downward at the courtyard below. Taking in deep, gasping breaths and trying to shake what he just imagined completely out of his mind.

Words the headmaster had spoken during their long conversation that morning came flooding back at him now.

"Everyday is a gift, Harry. Not a single force in this world can tell us for certain when our time to pass on to the next adventure will come. Every single day and night since I drank that liquid has been a blessing. Seeing you start your seventh year. Watching you accept a brother, a love and a destiny so fully, seeing yet another first year class go through their sorting, this has been my dearest gift: one more day."

Pulling his robes more tightly around himself in an effort to hold out the chilly breeze, Harry sat down and watched the students below. A deep sleep never actually came for him, but Harry at least felt more rested and relaxed as he sat quietly and occasionally dozed off for a few moments at a time.

The sun was nearly setting several hours later when he finally shook his head free from his thoughts. He has always felt uneasy about how dark winter seemed. It was as if every day was in a hurry to welcome a new frigid night. It had to be nearly time for dinner so he made his way quickly towards the Gryffindor dormitories. The four of them were meeting up there and after the meal heading directly to Dumbledore's office. Dobby would transfer their bags so it might go unnoticed. He had prepared a light overnight bag with a change of clothing around five that morning. Nobody was really sure how long this might take without someone as experienced as the headmaster.

Walking up to the Fat Lady's portrait, Harry passed more than a dozen Gryffindors hurrying away. The cause, he supposed, was the recent arrival of the distrusted Slytherin Head Boy. Sure enough the only faces that turned toward him in the Common Room were his best friends and a nervous Ginny.

His brother didn't look at him. Draco was apparently too busy rattling off instructions for the proper care of Crookshanks, who was cradled in Ginny's too small arms.

"…And he can't stand that sodding canned garbage of Granger's so you have to cast the charm for his milk. Make sure he eats something too… hasn't had much of an appetite lately and it's not likely to improve with me—"

"Potter!"

"With us gone," he corrected. "And if you put him in that silly basket bed of his make sure the blue sweater is in it to. He'll try and claw his way into the Heads' rooms if he doesn't have it."

Pushing past her counterpart, Hermione rubbed Crookshanks' head and received a deep slow purr in response. Leaning close she whispered, "I remember when you were my cat. Don't forget I loved you first."

After she kissed him on the nose, Draco stepped forward and offered his fingers for the beast to lick at. He spoke in a rather regal tone, "Behave for Weasley and we'll be back shortly."

Harry smiled and Ron apparently couldn't contain himself any longer, clutching at his sides and turning deeper red.

"You know, Gin, Mum and Dad used to act the same way when you were that little," he joked.

Draco narrowed his eyes at the red head and Hermione took a step back away from the group and towards the door.

"We really should get—"

"I'll be along in a minute," Harry interrupted and kept his eyes leveled on Ginny's.

The others made their way out and Ginny adjusted the rather over-sized bundle of orange fur covering most of her upper body. Harry smiled and pulled a thin box from his pockets. Smiling, Ginny set down the cat and grabbed her own package from a nearby couch. The red and green wrapping paper set Harry ill at ease. He really wished he'd thought to wrap her present, but for all his insomnia the night before it never occurred to him.

He got the chance to lower it slightly before his own present was extended toward him.

"I… I hope you like it," Ginny offered with a nervous smile. "I never tried something like this before but… I thought… you'd like it and it could help you."

Ripping open the paper, Harry found a new burgundy sweater. Unfurling it, the left sleeve looked more than a couple inches longer than the right and his initials sewn above the heart in gold were a bit uneven, but looking up all he could do was smile widely.

"I know it isn't as good as Mum's, but Hermione said for my first try it was—"

Whatever further explanation she had was never offered. Harry managed to clear the brief distance between them in a flash and set his lips firmly on hers. Never really the type to swoon, Ginny allowed herself to do so just a wee bit as her boyfriend nibbled on her lower lip and several minutes past with them desperately clutching to one another.

Eventually stepping back, Harry explained, "I'm taking this with me you know. It's supposed to be awful cold and… I can think about you."

Smiling widely, she added, "So you wouldn't be thinking about me otherwise? Harry, I'm shocked."

Remembering her gift, Harry extended it towards her. The gold bracelet caught the light from the fireplace as soon as it was revealed. A swash of warm light reflected across her smiling face and for the first time that day things like Voldemort and Horcruxes and death and responsibility were nowhere in his mind.

Harry pulled her right arm closer and took the liberty of sliding the gift onto her wrist. He would leave the engraving on the inside for her to find another time. Kissing her quickly again, Harry whispered, "I love you, Ginevra Weasley."

Leaning up, she returned the kiss and held tightly to his arm, saying, "I love you, Harry Potter… but you have to go."

"Sometimes I think all we ever get are moments," Harry remarked as they headed towards the door. "I want more."

"We'll have a million moments someday," Gin answered while looking forward.

The two left and a deceptively fast blur of orange followed them. For a moment the room was empty before the portrait swung open again and Hermione set Crookshanks back inside. As the creature walked towards the fireplace with it's head held high, his owner laughed, "A nice try Crooks. We'll be back. Promise."

Harry's appetite didn't return that evening. Between looking at the empty chair in the center of the staff's table and the occasional squeezing of his hand from Ginny, dinner never amounted to more than a few bites of ham and a spoonful or two of peas. Ron ate with his usual zest and even Hermione had seconds and a half-finished third helping on her plate.

"You really should eat more, Harry," she remarked with a furrowed brow. "I packed a bit of food, but we don't really know when our next meal might be. It's going to be a long fl—I mean night."

"No, you mean flight," Ron retorted. His smirk and Hermione's squirming in her seat left the ghost of a smile on Harry's face. It was then that he noticed Draco stand and exit the room without so much as a glance in their direction.

Leaning closer, Harry offered Gin a light peck on the cheek and softly explained, "It's time."

Ron used the moment to shove some Christmas cookies into the pocket of his robe and hastily swallowed the last of his pumpkin pie. Hermione glanced to either side nervously, but stood up first and started towards the door with Ron shortly behind her.

Even though they already said their goodbyes, Ron couldn't help but kiss Luna lightly on the top of her head on his way past the Ravenclaw table. She never looked at Ron, but sort of waved above her head as if shooing a fly. Nobody really noticed how she spent the rest of the night wringing her napkin tightly in her fists.

Sharing a brief kiss, Harry whispered, "I wish it could be more, but…"

"I know," she answered while a firm resolution set in her eyes. "It can't look like anything. You are all just camping out in Hermione's room for a couple of nights to work on NEWTs. I'll make sure word gets around."

Another brief kiss and Harry was walking towards the door and flat out refused to look back.

The four of them silently went up the main stairs and off towards the Head's suite, but cut across the second floor. Just before Harry could offer the gargoyle the password, it leapt aside on its own.

Opening the door, Harry took in the somber faces in the room. McGonagall and Bill were standing by the fireplace talking in hushed tones. Dumbledore seemed to be napping behind his desk and Hagrid paced nervously off to the right side of the room next to five bags.

It was the giant who came forward first and handed Hermione a small basket.

"Made up somethin' fer ya," he explained. "Just felt like cookin' up a right storm today. Gots some muffins and bread and even a few bits a' chicken. I 'ad more, but Professor McGonagall said you're travlin' light."

Hermione set the basket down a tried to wrap her arms as far around Hagrid as they would go and mumbled a 'thank you' into his chest. Sniffling back his tears, he returned the hug and squeezed a bit tighter than he normally did.

"From what we've been told, the headmaster's friend will be waiting on the other side and will guide you on the first part of the journey," McGonagall added. "I do wish we could—"

"The more people that go, the more likely someone will notice," Draco interrupted. "I know all you Gryffindors hate it, but we have to be sneaky about this. Hope Voldemort leaves Harry for later and stays away until we're ready. Besides if all goes to plan, we'll be back in a day or two with nary a scratch."

"_Oh_, we have a plan," Ron drawled out sarcastically. "Well, I'm sure nothing will go wrong… _just like usual_."

"Is the headmaster…" Harry began to ask.

"Fell asleep a few minutes ago," McGonagall answered without moving her eyes from the napping man behind the desk with a crooked smile on his face.

"Asleep?" Ron questioned, looking around at three other students that wouldn't offer an answer.

Each of them collected their backpacks. Hermione struggled a bit with another shoulder bag and Ron snatched it from her hand. Having some problem lifting it as well, he demanded, "Bloody… you have the take the whole library with you?"

"We don't know what we might need," Hermione answered and swept some loose strands of hair out of her face. She made to reach for it, but Ron simply backed away and threw the strap over his own shoulder. Hermione swished her wand at it without a word and the load seemed to lighten a bit.

"Well, the sooner we leave…" Harry trailed off and the group looked towards the fireplace.

"Keep your scar behind those bangs," Bill instructed. "Most magical folk outside of England won't recognize you without it. Follow Absalon's instructions and stick together. If things go… if you need to get back, you're well outside of apparating range so don't try it. Just… make note of a few places around the town and get yourselves back through a Floo terminal."

"If you need any help," McGonagall added, "Remus, Moody and a few others are rotating shifts at the Headquarters. For heavens sake, don't take any unnecessary risks."

After a moment's silence, Bill grabbed some powder from over the fireplace and threw it in, shouting, "Odin's Maiden!"

Draco led the way through, followed shortly after by Hermione and Ron. Just as he was stepping into the green flames, Harry turned back one last time. It was time just enough to see a sly wink sent his way from a drowsy Dumbledore. Harry was mostly sure he managed to get his hand up and send off a quick wave before he was yanked into the fireplace.

On the other end, he emerged in a crowded, but dimly lit tavern. The first part of their journey had been a 950-mile Floo ride to the small wizarding village of Bokmalo on a deep inlet connecting to the Arctic Ocean. The specific destination was Odin's Maiden, a rather sinister-looking place reminiscent of the Hog's Head. The recurring theme seemed to be spears and shields surrounding paintings of fierce-looking valkyries riding what could only be described as flying wolves.

The room seemed small, but that might have been due more to the dozens of unusually tall wizards and witches stuffed into the tavern like sardines. Draco, the only one who knew what their contact looked like, led the way through the mass. Harry followed shortly after, Hermione holding onto the back of his robes to prevent them from getting separated. Ron brought up the rear and glanced longingly at the happy crowd singing some foreign drinking tune at the bar.

"Why is it every sodding city we connect to at a pub, but we never get a drink?" Ron muttered.

Hermione scowled and began lecturing, "Because you're too you—"

"Because they're popular," Draco interrupted. "Because most towns have one and they're easy to find and usually centrally located. Because five minutes from now none of these people will remember we were here… also the too young thing."

Near the exit, the tallest wizard they could see bowed low to them, nearly touching the floor with his long beard and catching his grey cap from falling off. The jet-black hair that fell long over his shoulders reminded Harry a bit of Professor Snape if somewhat less greasy. Though Snape most definitely never smiled as openly as the jolly fellow before them. His beard bristled outward near his mouth when he spoke up in a mangled accent that put the Delacours to shame.

"Absalon Christian Ludvin Friss at zour zervice jung zir… Drako Patreek," he introduced with another wave of his hand. "Old Dumbladoor vas mine grandmudar Dyggva's instruktor many yarz ago. Ez a great hoonir to aszizt du alle."

The auburn-haired boy nodded curtly and motioned to the three students behind him, "Harry, Granger and Ron. Perhaps we should be right on our way."

Nodding excitedly he replied, "Ja, lad, allz rady."

With a quick turn he lead them the final few meters through the crowd to the front door. Swinging it open, a bitter wind wiped through the entire room and cause more than a bit of grumbling and cursing from the patrons.

Stepping out on the cobblestone street, Harry was immediately shivering. Winters at Hogwarts were often chilly despite the comprehensive set of warming charms the staff cast, but they were certainly nothing to prepare someone for this. The howling wind was not a brief or light thing. Each traveler was soon covered in a layer of white snow and shivering to their bones. Only the leader of their small party seemed not to notice or perhaps care about the snow pelting him. Their too light robes wiped about them and the icy weather seemed to flow right through the students.

The five-minute walk ended when they entered an empty hayloft just off of the docks. Beyond that the sea was crashing into the shore and stretching back endlessly into the black of the night. It was obvious they were in a valley of some sort, but the weather obscured the view. The barn at least was warm enough and Absalon began rattling off in a language Harry couldn't place and walking up the stairs to the loft with a red-faced and shivering Draco trailing behind.

Taking a moment, Harry threw his robes over his head and soon pulled out the sweater Ginny had given him and a second layer of robes. Hermione and Ron followed his example, each throwing on another layer or two of clothing. Their original robes were now soaked through as the snow melted in the warm room. Pulling her wand from the pile, Hermione stopped her chattering teeth long enough to cast a warming charm on the three of them. A quick drying spell later and she threw her original robes around her shoulders.

"The brooms are ready," Draco announced as he marched back down the steps. "Our friend cast a few popular local charms on them to keep our bums from freezing. It won't help much, but we can make it. If we fly straight through we should get to the island just before daybreak."

"We aren't going out in this!" Ron yelled. "It's a nightmare. We'll freeze to death. Does he know when it'll let up?"

"Ron's right," Hermione quickly agreed. "We can't fly in this. I absolutely can't fly in this."

"We aren't," Draco replied while digging through his bag. "We fly above it. And according to our overly happy friend the storm's been on for nearly a week and won't be ending anytime soon. Harry?"

Without a glance to any other companion, Harry decided, "We're leaving in five minutes. Even with good time and luck when we get there… we'll have to sleep a bit. Damn… we'll be lucky to be back for the Christmas Day dinner."

Grumbling a bit to himself, Ron pulled on his thickest mittens and his orange Cannons cap. Draco pulled the peak of his hat down towards his eyebrows and tossed Hermione her dark red earmuffs and she slipped them on under her own blue knit hat. It was Harry who began climbing up to the second floor. The double-doors were creaking and shaking in place, held closed by a large block of wood across the center. Four brooms were laid out in the middle of the room. Harry noted they were not any British make he could recognize.

When they reached the landing, Absalon explained, "Are zu sure… Dumbledoor said du could do dis on zour own, but I vould be—"

"We're fine," Harry assured. "The headmaster knows where we are and where we're going. No worries."

"Das is vell enuf," Absalon surrendered with a large shrug. "Dere are zu clifz on eider side of ze fjord. Climb up sheerply and cut northvezt aftar two kelomatars und zu vill be ovar opan ocean. Vhen you 'ave returned, contect me drough de Floo."

Harry shook the taller man's hand and explained to the others, "I'll take the lead. The rest of you follow side-by-side and stay within sight of me. Once we're over the weather and out to sea, we stop and check the map every hour. If you start getting tired, AT ALL, let someone know and we can double-up."

Mounting the lead broom, Harry waited for the others to climb on and after retightening their outer robes gripped them firmly. With his own wand, he cast the drying charm on his glasses so he could see while flying and wrapped his Gryffindor scarf tightly around his neck and lower face. Remembering the furious wind, he took extra care to secure the wand at his belt once more and rechecked his backpack. Sweating a bit from the warmth of the barn, Harry wiped his brow and nodded.

With a swipe of his wand and some Nordic phrase, Absalon sent the brace into the nearest corner and swung open the doors. Waiting a moment for the others to brace against the wind, Harry pushed off into the wind head-on and began the slow climb up between the mountains into the dark and cloudy sky.

Ten minutes later, Harry looked around just before hitting the cloud line. Beneath them he thought he could make out the ocean coastline. Behind him, the others were trailing along slowly, Hermione tightly squeezed between the other two. Both Ron and Draco had an arm behind her, linking them into one slow-moving unit.

"I'll see you up top!" Harry screamed as loudly as he could. Uncertain if he was heard, he turned once more and pushed into the clouds. When he emerged on the other side, soaking wet and shivering, it was a seemingly endless few minutes until the others emerged. They looked about as worse for wear as he did.

"I need a minute to check the map," Harry explained. Carefully, he pulled the map Dumbledore gave him out of his robes and swung his wand over it, muttering, "_Locus_."

The parchment showed the Norwegan mainland at the bottom and at the top center the muggle-inhabited island of Svalbard. Off to the right of the large island was a far smaller one. Dumbledore had told him that if the island ever had a name it was long since forgotten. Supposedly a rather historic center of dark magic, the entire landmass was protected by anti-apparation spells.

Upon casting the spell an X appeared showing him where they were and an arrow pointing the direction to travel in. With a look back to ensure they were ready, Harry took off faster than before in the proper direction.

The trip took far longer than it would have if Harry could have flown at top speed. Even the rather old and steady broom had higher speeds, but the chill and Hermione's lack of comfort flying kept them moving slower. It was well into the middle of the night when the clouds below them finally parted and they came a bit lower. Numb from the cold and exhausted since he hadn't actually taken a chance to sleep in nearly 48 hours, Harry soon found himself shutting his eyes for continually longer instants.

At the end of one such instant, his eyes bolted open with the knowledge that he had nearly fallen asleep. Just then he noticed it was a bit tight and warm on the broom. Quickly he felt a tightening of the arms around him and Ron's voice saying, "Get some sleep, Harry. We'll be there in a couple hours."

Still a bit absent-minded, Harry saw two brooms beneath them and the combined warming charms kept the wind a bit more at bay. To his right, Hermione offered a tired, but comforting smile and on her other side, Draco kept his eyes forward on the horizon. More than a little glad to have them all along, Harry let himself drift away.

He was still a bit groggy and grumpy when jostled awake a few hours later. There was absolutely no comfortable way to sleep on a broom over a freezing Arctic Ocean. The sun at least was starting to creep up to his right, enough so he saw the reason Ron had given him a shaking.

There was an island coming up quickly on the horizon.

_Author' Note: A far shorter chapter than usual, but I have to save the Island for its own chapter. I realize reviews seemed to drop off with the last chapter and I hope pushing the plot and quest on a bit further here will spark some type of reaction. Trust me, if you guys and gals make the effort to review this chapter a bit more, it'll only improve my pace. And the next chapter I think will be one of the best yet. I also wanted to remind you that I'll take any reviews I can get, whether they're gushing, constructively critical or outright negative. Thanks again and I hope to have more for you all soon._


	18. Not All Tears are an Evil

**CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: NOT ALL TEARS ARE AN EVIL**

"Granger, are you alive?"

"…"

"Granger?"

"Yeah? Wh—"

"Are you alright?"

"I fell and you saved and I…"

"Congratulations, your know-it-all brain still works."

"Potter…what's—"

"I swear it's just my wand."

Some ten hours before this conversation took place four Hogwarts students arrived on a nameless island. Millennia earlier, it had been an important ritual site for several power incantations of dark magic. It was now only the stuff of legend. The few who knew of it did so from the days of Arthur Pendragon. The popular belief among these rare circles was that Merlin and Morgana themselves put aside their life-long feud to work together and cast the permanent anti-apparation wards for hundreds of miles in every direction. However these wards came about, they were the reason there was no wizarding population on the nearby islands of Arkhangel'sk and Svalbard.

A week earlier, Dumbledore had shown Harry the memories Absalon had acquired of Tom Riddle showing up in northern Norway some half century earlier not too long after leaving his job in Diagon Alley. He was well on his way to transforming into a more serpent-like creature when he returned to the area five years later. This was their best lead.

Despite the sun rising, the long journey had been more exhausting than they had planned for. Ron found a clearing several meters off of the beach in the thick forest that seemed to blanket the whole of the island. After Hermione set-up several wards and they had a bit to eat from Hagrid's basket, the four settled down for a nervous few hours rest.

Harry was the first awake just a bit before mid-day. Looking at the others, he again contemplated whether they should remain in a group or perhaps break apart into pairs to search. After looking at his friends, he turned his attention to the woods around them. Compared to the decent wind still howling when they landed, the forest was utterly still and quiet.

Now Harry had all the faith in the world that Hermione's wards would warn them if anything was approaching, but he knew how necessary they were. He couldn't imagine justifying splitting up in a place where such wards were used. Knowing how short the days were, Harry quickly woke the rest of his party and they set about repacking quickly and silently.

"So we'll head to the center first," Harry announced. "I couldn't see anything overhead, so we'll just have to cover as much ground as quick as we can."

"I buried the brooms just off the beach," Ron mentioned. "So I suppose… let's go."

Just before they set out, Draco leaned over and quietly mentioned to his brother, "Every other search has found something because Dumbledore has some proficiency in sensing magic instinctively. He thinks you might have a talent for it too. I'm trusting you not to have us search this damn island for a month looking for something that isn't here."

"It's… I just know there is something here. I have… a feeling."

"Well, let's pray it's a Horcrux and not indigestion."

With that Draco swept his bangs out of his face again and took off northeast towards the center of the island. Harry and Hermione set off after him side by side and Ron took a final wary look around before bringing up the rear.

Every unnatural feeling Harry had only intensified after a couple of hours walking. The terrain had stayed level for quite a while, but was now starting to turn uphill and rocky though the gnarled trees seemed to grow the same regardless, even springing out of solid rock. It was now obvious that it wasn't just the thick trees that had deadened the chilly wind. Sounds were heavier here. It was as if everything was harder and dragged down with dead weight except those trees. Harry smirked a bit noticing how his brother's path never led them too close to the larger ones.

Behind him Ron grunted and adjusted Hermione's bag. It really did seem to be getting harder to carry as he went on and if they were still on the muddier ground he'd be sinking with every step. After a bit more trudging along, Ron smacked himself on the head and removed his wand. Remembering the lesson from last month's Charms class, Ron pointed at the bag and cast, "_Relevo_."

The stiff pull on his shoulder was less after decreasing the weight of the bags, but it was always present. The fact that they were now definitely headed uphill was just one more frustration for the pile. He huffed a bit at how tedious this adventure was compared to their previous ones. Honestly, it had him a bit bored actually.

Less than ten minutes later, boredom immediately recast itself as nerves when Draco held out his hand indicating they should stop. Harry attempted to take a quiet step closer to ask what the problem was, but his brother heard the movement and swung his arm backwards, demanding that they stay still. The unease, the bitter taste in the back of Harry's mouth had only grown more insistent in the last minute and now seemed to grow all the way down to his stomach.

Beside him and behind, Hermione and Ron had drawn their wands. Ignoring the taste, Harry quickly caught the noise that Draco and now everyone did. It was a scratching like a nails scratching on a chalkboard, but more muffled and distorted. At the very least, it seemed to come mostly from the right of them. Harry tightened the grip on his wand, as the sound grew louder until it was like the noise was right on top of them. He tensed and called a number of freezing and quick attack hexes to the front of his mind. But for now at least no attack came. The sound was now off on the left, but growing quieter. It seemed silent soon and after another minute, Draco started them up again.

Some fifteen minutes later, Draco had climbed a four-meter cliff and was currently pulling Hermione up while Ron pushed up on her feet. Once she was up and settled, Draco lowered his hand to help Ron up, but froze when he noticed Harry walking off to the east.

That bitter taste had lessened a bit, but in Harry's opinion what he was looking for was probably the type of thing that would make him feel worse and even less comfortable. Closing his eyes, he focused in on that feeling and took another tentative step forward. And he noticed it.

The feeling hitched up slightly, like swallowing a piece of onion quickly so he wouldn't have to taste it too much. Going this direction felt wrong… which in this case was right.

"We… Draco, can we go this way a bit?" Harry asked and turned to face the others.

Draco looked at his brother silently for a moment before nodding and taking Hermione's hand. Walking her towards the cliff, he muttered, "Mind your knees."

He held tightly and lowered her back down until Ron could help her the rest of the way. Tossing his own bag down first, he shimmied down quickly and suggested, "Why don't you take the lead?"

The next few hours went far slower with constant stops for Harry to try and focus in on where he _felt_ they should be going. Even if he started to think he was going utterly bonkers, the others just followed him without a word or grunt in disapproval or annoyance. It was when the sun had set that he felt it.

"Whatever… the thing I'm heading towards," Harry explained while rubbing his stomach, "it's about as strong as I think it'll get."

The others began looking around the area. There wasn't anything special about it. The trees were no thicker than in any other area. There were no ruins or markings of any kind to show it as any different from the woods they had been trudging through for hours.

It was Ron who heard it first. The scratching sound from before had reappeared, but it grew from nothing to deafeningly loud in mere instants. In a flash, four wands were drawn and scanning the woods around them.

"Bollocks," Ron muttered before diving to the ground.

The scratching quickly morphed into cackling. In the first sweep, it seemed like a giant bowl overflowing with a gray-haired blob of string was flying low at them. The students hit the ground as lines of golden lightning zipped out of the silver string. Black scorch marks covered the area, one only inches from Harry's head. Watching closer as it came back around, the bowl was actually a mortar and the giant blob of string was actually hair. The mad, gleeful face beneath it seemed inhuman with an abnormally wide and malicious smile plastered across it.

Harry managed to get his wand around first. In the back of his mind, he thought he heard Hermione call out, "Baba Yaga!"

"_Incendio!_"

Harry's spell hit a tree that seemed to soften and absorb the flames, but the fat bowl was apparently rather mobile. It swung around another thick tree and was on Harry in an instant, crushing him into the ground. His chest compressed on itself and the icky feeling flew out of his mind. All that took its place was the pain and through the mad cackling Harry thought he heard his own ribs cracking. Just before the world started spinning towards darkness, he saw two wide and mad yellow eyes through the mass of mangled hair.

His world turned black, but then a scream… it sounded like a mere whisper and a flash of blue light. Several loud explosions and flashes of lightning later and Harry could see again. The hag seemed to be swinging back and fourth between a few trees for cover. It was Ron standing between them. Firing off every curse he could think of as loudly as possible and ignoring the lightning ripping close enough to burn his clothes and scar the terrain.

"_Reducto! Expelliarmus! Furnunculus! Densaugeo!_ Left! _Stupefy! Incendio! Sectumsempra! Infligo! Fundo!_ Left! _Petrificus Totalus!"_

The second or third time Ron yelled it, Harry managed to come to his senses enough to hear the direction. Stumbling towards the left and after coming around the second tree, Harry grabbed it to steady himself.

Ignoring the fact that twigs seemed to be wrapping around his hand, Harry took half a breath and leveled his wand at the swinging forest spirit and silently pushed out a stupefying charm.

It managed to hit and Ron quickly followed with a pair of slicing curses, but the witch just stood and advanced on him. Unable to see her anymore, Harry could barely rip his hand free of the tree. Just before he fell forward, he fired off a Reductor curse that through nothing but luck missed the spirit and smashed her mortar.

"WWWWWWWWWWaaaaaaaaaaaggggghhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!"

The wail of the hag ripped through the forest and by the time Harry pulled himself up it was already racing away through the woods at a pace it's plump and hair-covered form didn't seem capable of.

It was not too much longer when Ron was at his side. He seemed all right besides the sweat and a few scorched marks on his robes. Using his own sleeve, Ron wiped the trail of blood off of his friend's chin and looked towards the direction the witch had run off in. Still seeing nothing there, Harry sat down and started to lean back against a tree. Remembering the twigs and his hand, he leaned forward instead.

"Good idea, mate," Ron mentioned. The taller boy plopped on the ground, breathing heavily. "I saw that thing made to grab me while that… whatever… witch was crushing you. And I think… I think the buggers got _her_."

"Her?" Harry asked. His senses were starting to come back to him and no sooner had he said the word than he realized the two things that were missing. It didn't take the lost and worried look in Ron's eyes to tell him all he needed to know.

Coughing a bit first, Ron explained, "I think… Hermione fell off to one side next to that larger tree and she… I think she was screaming. By the time I turned around, they were both gone."

"Draco?" Harry asked and began pulling himself to his feet. Ron had the strength to get up first and lend Harry a helping hand.

"He was near her, figure he did something…"

"Something we'd usually do?" Harry asked with the ghost of a smirk.

Rubbing some dirt out of his hair, Ron mumbled, "Yeah, something rudding stupid. She's probably yelling his ear off right now."

Harry swung his head a bit wildly for a moment and then slower until he could focus in on where they were when all this started. It didn't seem to change. Slowly moving closer to the spot, Harry noticed that funny feeling came back in his gut with a bloody passion.

The dirt around the base of one particularly gnarled and grey tree had changed somehow. Stumbling even closer it was obvious the dirt was a darker shade, like it had been upturned. Without really thinking or caring about what was happened before, he leaned closer. Besides just finding his friends, this was where he needed to go. He just… knew.

"Ron—"

"We have to get sucked into some bloody trap for the greater good, don't we?"

"Yep," Harry answered with a smile. Grinning back, Ron grabbed his friend's robes and together they took one more step forward and they sunk down into the ground in a flash, far faster than quicksand and just like that dirt was tearing past them, scratching at the faces and burrowing into their clothing. They were off to catch up with Draco and Hermione.

"I swear it's just my wand."

While Ron and Harry were facing off with a centuries-old witch-spirit, Draco and Hermione found themselves pulled down through the ground and to their present location. The room was a dingy stone covered in all the cobwebs, grime and muck that must have accumulated in all the years since a human being was last here and the centuries since it was a commonly known location. There were torches at either side providing the barest of light.

After Hermione quickly scrambled off the young man she had been fortunate enough to land on and they were certain each was unharmed, both began inspecting the room more closely. The stone was everywhere. Not a door or charmed window was present. The only change in any of the surface was the small dirt hole in the ceiling they had entered through.

"Damn it!" Draco screamed as he punched the wall before him.

More than a bit unsettled by his reaction, Hermione nervously came towards him. By the time she placed her hand on his shoulder, Draco was tensed up like a wild animal ready to attack. The brief shock to his system of the warm hand tightly holding onto him wore into a reluctant comfort and he allowed both of his shoulders to sag and relax a bit.

"Harry and Ron will be fine," she explained. "We'll figure this out and they'll be up there working out a way to get us out."

"What makes you say that, Granger?" Draco asked while leaning his head downwards.

Smiling a bit more, Hermione moved her hand down to his and pulled a bit, encouraging him to turn around. She answered, "Well, I'm still alive aren't I? I know this is a bit… new for you and all, but we really do get out of situations like this all the time."

Finally raising his eyes to meet hers, Draco allowed a brief smile to take shape and quietly spoke up, "Is it always this hard… being good that is. It… nothing has been easy since I… since the summer."

"Not always, but sometimes, and it's worth it almost every time" she answered honestly. "But I promise going through this together will only bring you closer."

Draco managed to break in a full smirk and Hermione became quite flustered when she realized what she had implied. She immediately swept her hand down out of his grasp and clutched the side of her robes tightly.

"That is… I mean you and Harry… or m-maybe you and Ron-as friends of course… and um… not that we aren't… I mean to say… what I meant was…"

"Got you, Granger," Draco drawled slowly with a knowing grin spreading easily across his face. Hermione thought briefly on the double meaning of his sentence. The truth behind what he was getting at started to shift into focus as Draco lowered his face ever so slightly towards her. Her mind caught onto the fact that her body so easily moved up towards him and it was all very natura—

"Aaaaaaaahhhhhh!"

The two young students jolted apart a bit as their companions fell through the dirt hole at the same time and hit the ground sharply only a couple meters away. Harry and Ron both tried to roll when they hit ground, but unfortunately did so in the same direction and were quickly changed into a rather sore clump of limbs strewn across the floor.

As they slowly stood and Ron frantically wiped… something off the left side of his face, Draco took a step toward them and cursed, "Bloody brilliant, Potter! I'd expect this of either of you alone, but together… why was I ever worried about being stuck in this damn hole with you two up there figuring out a solution."

"Oh and what were we supposed to do, Ferret!" Ron yelled while his face turned several deeper shades of red.

Draco slapped his head and muttered, "Mayhaps transfigure up a robe and lower it into the ground that sucks you down here so we could dig our way up. Or search the area for five minutes… five seconds even for some other entrance or concealment spell or… Damn it all!"

"Oh you—"

Hermione stepped quickly between the two and interrupted, "Enough! Bad enough to be trapped, we don't need to tear each other apart. Let's just solve this and get on!"

Unwilling to continue the argument over Hermione's head, all three boys let themselves calm down quite a bit. While Draco massaged his temples in a futile attack on his ever-increasing headache, Harry and soon after Hermione began checking their bags to see what supplies they still had undamaged. Ron quickly walked off towards the far wall and muttered quietly to himself, apparently not ready to let the fight die completely.

Harry soon discovered Hagrid's basket had cracked open from it's place tied to his pack and some… goo-like substance had seeped in and ruined everything they had left. He was able to be a bit impressed when Hermione pulled out a bag of bread and cheese she had kept tucked away in the middle of her backpack.

Grinning in satisfaction, she quickly put the bag back in its place and set it off the ground on top of the ruined basket. Knowing they wouldn't starve for at least a few days, her mind moved on to the obvious secondary concern of escaping. Turning her head slowly from left to right, she didn't immediately notice anything until Ron spoke up.

"What's this all, Ferret?"

"What's what, Weasley?" Draco asked while glancing towards the taller young man.

Scratching a growing bump on his head, Ron explained, "Well, you're supposed to speak a hundred languages or some such. What does all this mean?"

The other three quickly hurried towards the wall Ron had been examining. Touching the wall, Hermione traced the bricks. On each was written in small carvings, distinct images and shapes. Running her fingers over them again, she leant in as close as she could without completely blocking out the torch's light. Breaking into a knowing grin, she mumbled, "runes…"

Ron and Harry both looked to her and she continued, "They're runes. I bet I can figure this out… I could do this. It must be instructions on how to get out or through to something. I need a notebook. Paper and quill."

Ron slung the bag over his shoulder and began riffling through it. Most of the inkwells were still intact thanks to some strong unbreaking charms. As he handed her the ink and quill and frantically searched for the paper, Ron said, "Brilliant, Hermione! Just spot on as always. We'll be out of here in—"

"Don't finish that sentence," Draco broke in. He sneered at the wall as if it had offended him and began wiping away grime and cobwebs with the cuff of his sleeve. Glancing left and right, he explained, "It's everywhere. Look at the whole thing… more Runes… and… Harry a bit of light?"

Muttering the charm, Harry held his wand over his head, casting a clear light across the whole of the wall. More than two-thirds of the small bricks had similar writing on them. Their expressions darkened as Draco continued, "That's Greek up in that section and… Polynesian Runes th—no Egyptian, Granger you'll have to take that section. Some old Germanic bits in the upper left."

"Well," Hermione broke in while wiping off more of the wall, "I think this is some type of local writing, not sure what we'll do with that. But the right corner there is a bit of Russian, but… look around. This could take months. Bits and pieces but it's mostly Greek all over… I think…"

After several silent minutes, Harry asked, "What are you thinking?"

"It seems familiar…" Draco replied and took a step back. "Not really…wait a minute… Granger step back."

Harry and Ron moved farther back out of their way and the two Head students stood side-by-side. After only a quick glance around at the entire illuminated wall, Hermione saw what her counterpart was thinking. If the portions still covered with muck held the pattern…

"It's a code," she said aloud. "Kind of familiar… Xenophonian?"

"I think you're right," Draco agreed and shared a brief grin with her. "Brilliant, Granger. You might be a help yet."

"What is it?" Harry asked. "Explain it like Ron and I aren't as smart as you two."

"Yeah, what zeno… zenaphobia?" Ron added.

Hermione turned her smiling face towards her friends and explained, "Xenophon was a Greek soldier and historian. His grandson was a muggleborn wizard who… he developed a code for hiding messages in Greek Runes… entire libraries of codes. His name was Agesilaus, after the Athenian king. He's… well a legend in the fields of Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. There were different patterns see… and the pattern would let you know which parts of the message you need to read."

"This is the Serpentine Pattern… I think… maybe the squid… See everything that isn't Greek is just a ruse to catch people off guard. By looking at just the Greek bricks, we'll see the pattern for sure. Once we figure it out, we only have to translate certain bricks. Say left to right, top to bottom only prime numbered bricks, or bottom to top every third row. It all depends on which of the Xenophonian patterns the person who made the wall used."

"So you don't have to translate the whole wall?" Harry questioned.

"A bit less than half and at least it's a language Granger and I speak fluently," Draco replied. "But we have to clear the whole thing off to get the right pattern and translate the right bricks. The translation is probably a spell to get past the wall."

"So how long, until it's figured out?"

"Near two days," Hermione answered. "We'll miss the Christmas Day feast tomorrow and… well… we should have enough food."

"I still have some cookies left from dinner last night," Ron mentioned, pulling chunks of crumbled up cookie from his pocket.

Huffing a bit and wiping off more of the wall, Draco muttered, "Always the genius, Weasel."

Ron quickly stuffed the chunks back in his pocket and replied, "Fine. Give yours to Hermione anyways."

For the next several hours, the four of them worked in diligent silence, cleaning off all manner of dirt and grime. Three times they had to scourgify their outer robes. When they finished, Harry stood back and recast his Lumos charm and looked at the wall.

"Well, which is it?" he asked.

Hermione and Draco both stepped back next to him and examined it for a moment. Draco looked towards her. He had learned a bit about codes, but for a definitive identification they needed the type of certainty that only vast amounts of unnecessary extra-curricular reading would allow.

"Hmpf… it's not either of those……… Oh! I have it!" she finally exclaimed, bouncing up and down in place. "It's no the serpent or squid. See the patchwork? It's Athena's Tapestry."

"You're sure?" Draco asked. He tried to ignore the indignant look Harry threw him over her shoulder. It seemed in such times of trouble, one did not question the great Hermione Granger. He made a note of it.

"Yes, you know the code?"

Draco nodded and glanced around briefly. Handing Hermione a piece of paper and quill, he walked towards the wall and instructed, "We'll get a couple hours in tonight. Potter, you and Weasley clean some of the floor for sleeping."

"I thought you were leading this expedition," Ron muttered under his breath as they all grudgingly got to work... well except for Hermione, who dove right in.

Harry returned a quick grin and answered, "Well, he and Hermione are the only ones who can translate it. Plus, he tends to whine less when we let him think he's in charge."

"True. Let's not let his little Ferret brain get too big though or he'll—"

"Some quiet would be nice," Draco spat at them without turning. Hermione bit down a smile and started on a section of text in the lower right hand corner.

They managed to put in three more hours work that night. Harry and Ron cleaned up and prepared an area for them to sleep in the center of the room. Ron could barely contain his smile of superiority when a grumbling Draco took a large chunk of cookie from him just before they stopped for the evening. Hermione was far less inconspicuous a moment later, hopping to her blanket and declaring, "We made a good start. I finished 22 bricks. Potter managed 19, but it really was a good effort on his part."

Narrowing his eyes, Draco retorted, "At least Harry hasn't managed to top me at anything, or I'd feel damned useless now wouldn't I, Granger?"

"Actually," Ron broke in, trying to sound as high-faluting as possible, "he found the place and he was the one to scare off that baba yaba thing."

"Baba Yaga," Hermione immediately corrected, but shared in a smile of superiority directed towards the group's newest member. Biting back some rather nasty phrases, Draco simply curled up tightly in his blanket and muttered a warming charm before fading into sleep.

When they woke the next morning, they all managed to exchange a bittersweet round of muttering "Happy Christmas" before continuing about the day of work. Hermione diligently tore right into translating all the lower half of the wall and rarely turned from her work, except for a lunch of bread and the last of the chicken Ron had squirreled away. Draco was almost as fastidious, but managed to allow himself to be dragged into more than a couple arguments with the other boys. Most of the rude comments were directed at Ron, who was having a large problem occupying his mind.

It seemed Harry didn't feel much like discussing Quidditch, so the red head hopped from one activity to the other: bouncing pebbles off the wall, singing drinking songs and Chudley Cannons' fight anthems and somehow he had managed to sneak a deck of cards for Exploding Snap into his pack. The only real unifying theme of his activities were that they all made the hairs on the back of Draco's neck stand on edge. Reformed or not, Draco figured he was about one _Snap_ away from trying out a newly learned locust summoning hex on his 'friend' by the time they stopped for dinner.

In the end, Ron transfigured the pebbles into chess pieces and set them up on bricks in the opposite corner, creating an impromptu chess board. While searching for things for transfigure, Harry pulled a rather unusual item from Ron's backpack and held it aloft, asking, "What did you bring this for?"

Hermione and Draco looked up from their work to see a mangled monkey paw dangling from Harry's fingers. Ron casually answered, "Well, we don't know what it does, but it might be right useful. Not everyday Draco give you some monkey-king-paw-thing. Luna thinks it'll bring me luck."

"Are you serious?" Harry asked; his teasing smile in full bloom.

"Mate, I'm on pace to set a new record for Gryffindor keepers in saves. What do you think?"

With a stern look reminiscent of Professor McGonagall, Hermione demanded to know, "Ronald, you don't actually take that out on the pitch with you? You don't really believe in luck?"

His expression determined, Ron retorted, "Well I keep it tied to my back under the uniform… and obviously it works. I almost shut out Ravenclaw the other month."

"Ron, one has nothing to do—"

"Oh come off it, Granger," Draco interrupted. "If he thinks it works, then it does. That's usually how rituals work out."

"Right!" Ron quickly agreed. "Honestly, Hermione you'd think with all the time Harry and I spend talking about it, you'd 've learned something about sports."

Hermione simply grumbled quietly a bit and returned to translating her current brick.

Well over a thousand kilometers away, a slightly more joyous celebration was taking place. The Christmas Day Feast at Hogwarts was solemn given the tone of the wizarding world in previous months. But the air just seemed lighter lately. In the week since war broke out, there hadn't been hide nor hair of any Death Eater activity; a fact proclaimed on the front page of the _Prophet_ the previous day.

With the students assured that the younger Death Eaters had been expelled or arrested, Professor Dumbledore was smiling like a young schoolboy at how well the various Houses were getting along. Even the rather reclusive Slytherins were coming out of their shells, thanks in large part to the younger ones.

From his perch at the center of the staff table, he pushed another helping of Christmas pudding onto his plate. He had gone to sleep the evening before frightfully worried about Harry and the other students; honestly hoping they would be back for the holiday. But he woke up late this morning with an overwhelming feeling of warmth. It was utterly unlike the shivers he had been victim to every night for weeks on end.

The staff gift exchange had gone over rather well, though he was a bit sad when he noticed the green stocking over the mantle with _Severus_ embroidered in lovely script; a final farewell to an old friend. The staff seemed to be getting on exceptionally well this year. Bill had always been a favorite of Minerva's dating back to his first few days at Hogwarts many years ago and few frowns lasted long on a gentleman's face when Fleur was involved in a conversation. Remarkably, since the previous spring, Hagrid had taken an especially warm shine to Horace Slughorn. The two would sit together out in Hagrid's hut at all hours discussing any number of marvelous creatures and their infinite uses both alive and afterwards. Dumbledore's own gifts were all exceptionally wonderful, but the Ever-Warm slippers from Flitwick were perhaps his favorite. He had in fact put them on directly and was wearing them still.

The scene at dinner that night was even more festive than the night before. He had finally convinced the House Heads to do away with the tables for the holidays in favor of a large circle. After a day to get used to the idea, he smiled warmly at the progress. The Gryffindors were more than a little on edge with their three most prominent members missing, but young Miss Weasley had taken care of their cover story and kept them in line with the holiday spirit. Seeing her now sitting between Miss Lovegood and Mr. Longbottom, laughing and smiling, she reminded him more than a little of her mother. Of course, there was the unmistakable mischievous glint in her eyes that forever reminded him of the twins, both Prewitt and Weasley.

Draco had not been off at all when he encouraged a friendship between the younger Miss Delacour and Miss Witchett's group. The fast friends were sitting close together and whispering amongst one another, as Slytherins often were. But to see them mixed together with a once lonely, now giggling Hufflepuff was a bit of a precedent as far as he could remember.

It felt… it felt… it felt... just as he always imagined it would.

Swallowing a cough, Dumbledore tried not to let his spoon make too much of a clatter falling to his plate. The chills of the previous weeks and the pain of the previous months seemed to mold together in his chest. And in an instant…

He was warm again and a content smile graced his face. The students before him were speaking happily with one another. Despite everything else going wrong in the wizarding world… here at least children and young adults from all manner of background could still come together, united only by the magic flowing through every last one of them. And for the first time in weeks, he honestly felt himself included in the power of this grand place.

He had once heard the Muggle belief that in this moment… one's entire life flashed before their eyes.

Instead Albus saw the future laid out before him as obvious as if he was the original Cassandra. The fight, the cause, the students he had been dedicated to for more than a century would see those dreams accomplished. Harry would find the way. Like any good student, he merely needed his teachers to help set him on the right path.

At the end, it seemed appropriate for it all to end at Hogwarts, surround by cheer with a whisper of a smile upon his lips.

Nearly 20 minutes later, Minerva stood and dismissed the students from the feast. She had been nervously glancing at the snoozing headmaster for a few minutes. They had done this several times already. Some days Bill or she would help him back to his room. The teachers delayed a bit more, but soon only the Weasleys and McGonagall remained.

"Well, let's be on with it," Bill remarked with a solemn grimace on his face.

Taking the chance to speak with the older woman, Fleur remarked, "Vell, it 'as been a long day. I 'ave to still finish marking ze fourth year reports. Ze notes on the OWL preperetion exams vere clear, yes Madame?"

"Of course, my dear," Minerva answered while stretching a crick in her back. "I must say, you've been an awfully lovely bit of help this year. It has been freeing to help more wi—"

In an instant from catching Bill's expression, Minerva knew. The tears streaming from his unclosing eye on the wounded side of his face were all the explanation required. Remembering how much she had thought on this happening… how much she had steeled herself towards it… when Fleur began wailing softly into her hand, the last bits of resolve faded away. Both women were sitting again and crying softly at the expected, but terrible ending.

Placing his right hand on her shoulder, Bill rubbed his wife's back and softly asked, "Will you go ahead and make sure the students won't see. I'll take him to Pomfrey."

Nodding quickly, Fleur wiped her face clean and squeezed his hand before placing a caste kiss on his lips. She took the long way around the table and held the hand of a shaking Minerva McGonagall ever so briefly.

Bill raised his wand to cast a levitating charm before halting mid-stroke and putting it away. Wrapping his robe tightly around Dumbledore, Bill lifted the frail body up. He started off, but shortly stopped. Without turning, he called back, "Professor, I just want you to know—"

"I know William," she interrupted and rose to her feet, the resolution already setting in. "Take care of him. I will see to his plans."

The following morning, four of Dumbledore's favorite students rose from another uncomfortable night with no real idea what they had lost the night before. Harry perhaps felt off, but it didn't register as anything but an increase in his ever-present stomachache this room had given him.

Draco and Hermione finished their translations by late afternoon. Packing quickly, Harry nodded to the brown-haired girl. Gripping her wand tightly, Hermione lifted it straight over her head and swung diagonally down careful to match all the movements detailed in the code, calling out, "_Potentia Laus Esurio Ego_."

The bricks that formed the pattern of Athena's Tapestry turned a deeper black. In an unexpected flash, the wall dissolved away and revealed a narrow corridor. There were no torches or light beyond what shimmered down from the room they were in. When she went to take a step forward, Hermione found Harry grabbing her shoulder.

"My quest," he explained. "I go first. Ron will watch my back. You stay between him and Draco."

Huffing a bit, she replied, "I don't need them to prot—"

"Nevertheless," Harry answered quickly and started off. He took only a couple of steps forward before muttering, "Lumos."

The narrow walls of the corridor seemed to allow the light to bounce back and forth, but make almost no progress ahead of them. So Harry led the way slowly with only a few footsteps illuminated before him. When he came to a curving staircase heading downward, he glanced behind him and warned the others, "It heads down here. Watch your step."

The stairs led downward and wound around at least a dozen times. When they finally stopped and the floor leveled out, the tight corridor ended and opened into a vast bottomless cavern. A lone bridge led out towards a large covered dome in the center of the chamber. Silently, Harry seemed to force more power into his charm and the light spread out and illuminated the dark hole a bit. Above them, Harry could just make out the tips of the stalactites while he took a few tentative steps forward. The walls of the cave were detailed with primitive drawings as far as he could see though he had no idea how someone got out there to craft them.

"Wow," Ron muttered as he followed his friend out, scuffing his feet a bit. Of course when Ron looked down and made an audible gulp, Hermione followed his eyes. They were moving out onto the meter-wide bridge with nothing below them but eternal darkness.

"Oh bloody all to hell!" she cried while reaching forward and clutching the back of Ron's robes.

The boys all around her simply grinned and continued forward. The walk to the center dome ended with Harry extinguishing the light from his wand. Crossing the threshold into the domed structure, the interior of the single room was surrounded on all sides by charmed windows, providing the room with more than enough light.

Harry grimaced when he saw the pictures on them. Ritual sacrifices, dark ceremonies and very stoic wizards and witches, dressed all in black, glaring at them. It was to one of these images that Draco inclined his head and asked, "Look familiar, Granger?"

Following his line of sight, Hermione looked at the tall witch with deep cavernous black eyes and white hair spanned out wildly behind her. It was the distinctive hooked scar on her left cheek that gave it away.

"Margarete Le Pen," she muttered. At Ron and Harry's questioning looks, she continued, "She was one of the founding members of the original Knights of Walpurgis from 750 AD. It was the first formal group of English and French wizards dedicated… to…"

"Blood purity," Draco finished. "First group since the Flavian Order fell apart in the early European wizarding wars just before the split of the Roman Empire. I'd imagine that's what the rest of them are as well. Lucius did tend to brag about how Le Pen married……… him."

Pointing at another elderly wizard, this one noticeably shorter and his graying hair cut incredibly short, Draco shuffled in place a bit. Ron walked closer and read the name cut into the glass, "Julius Malfoy… hmmm…ugly bugger."

Seeing the young man glance downward as if looking for something in himself, Hermione looked around quickly before she asked, "Potter! What do you make of those?"

Two skeletons lay against the far wall, just ahead of two large circular runes. Draco bent low and ran his hand gently over the first symbol.

"So that's how he did it…" Draco whispered. Harry caught it and looked to Hermione for an explanation.

"We were talking the night before we left," Hermione began. "I wondered if Merlin and Morgana used their powers to isolate this place, then how did Voldemort get in to access this chamber or even hide a Horcrux here. I mean Merlin and Morgana were the two greatest of their age. It would be like you, Voldemort and Dumbledore working together on something. But the Runes explain the trick."

"So what do they mean?" Ron asked while gesturing towards the markings.

"This one stands for _strength_ and the one over there is _loyalty_," Draco answered. "And those were the two wizards who apparently held those qualities."

"He made them... forced them to... and… and killed them," Harry realized. Tightening his grip on the wand, he stepped past his brother and stood over the rune for loyalty.

Smirking, Draco suggested, "I think we should try you over there."

Ignoring Hermione and Ron's giggling, Harry fought back the urge to blush and stood over the strength rune. Immediately a golden circle surrounded him from floor to ceiling. The light was blinding for a moment, but evened out. Touching the wall, Harry realized there was no way out. In the empty room, a new plate glass window appeared, this one in the center of the dome's floor and showed a picture of a small jet-black hawk and a grey falcon flying straight forward. A light creaking could be heard as the glass moved to the flapping of the wings.

"Right, well, you two better go figure it out," Ron decided and before anyone could stop him, stepped forward into the loyalty rune. Instead of some glowing light, instead Ron hopped up in place and clutched his forearm. Stumbling backward, he cursed in pain and revealed a small cut on his arm.

Hermione and Draco both started towards him, so only Ron saw what happened when he fell from the circle. The tube that held Harry in place began quickly shrinking, closing in on him. Crawling back into the circle, Ron continued to clutch at his arm, but at least the tube stopped. Harry was now crammed tightly at the shoulders.

"It's okay," Ron said without looking up at Hermione and Draco, now both standing over him. "I have to stay for Harry. Just… just… figure it out."

Hermione clutched Draco's arm at the sight of the trail of red slowly expanding on Ron's arm. This was the test of loyalty… that one had to suffer for a friend who cannot escape, even if the one in pain could simply step away.

Before Hermione could voice an argument, she was being pulled back to the center of the room. When they got close, the hawk transformed into a beautiful longhaired woman with a firm grimace and the falcon to a smiling and tall elderly man, who's gray beard reached down past his knees.

Slowly the window faded away until it was nothing but a tiny spark of light. Both walked closer until in a moment a pedestal rose like a flash out of the ground. The students had fallen backwards, but soon rose and watched the light fade. As wide as a man and standing nearly two meter high, on top stood the familiar cup of Helga Hufflepuff.

Draco reached for it, but was stopped when Hermione grabbed his sleeve and explained, "We should read the inscription first. We don't want to make things worse."

Nodding, Draco stepped back and let Hermione translate a Gallic script on the side of the pedestal, "Here lies the Serpent's blood, spilled by a wyrm of ancient times. Let this Dark Isle be its final resting place, less evil learn to possess strength of spirit and a loyal heart. To save us all the Charm of Lochnell remains, to guard secrets eternal. Only then will the strong and loyal be free."

Shaking his head briefly, Draco reached forward and grabbed the cup. Immediately, deep gashes and cuts tore across his hands and arms, but the cup did not budge. He tried again and this time held fast. When his robes began ripping open as if a sword was slashing him without regard for pain he held on until finally a white light burst from the pedestal and knocked him back to the ground. Wiping a trail of blood from his lip, Draco cursed quietly and looked at the unsteady body of Ron Weasley.

"Hermione, what does that mean?" Harry called out. Next to him, Ron was now on his knees again while the pool of red beneath him was only growing.

Hermione turned to them with tears in her eyes. She explained, "It means the… the charm won't let us remove anything set on this for a thousand years. It… it was a myth… nobody ever managed it……"

"It means we can't get you the Horcrux to destroy and without it…" Draco explained, "you'll both die in there as long as it remains. They… they did it to prevent the Serpent's blood from coming loose in their lifetimes. It must have been part of what made Voldemort a monster… a large part of his power."

Another few instants of thought and Harry lowered his head and whispered, "Save Ron."

"Harry…"

"I mean it, Hermione. Nothing will save me but Ron can survive. Do it, now!"

Ron's head rose slightly at this and mumbled, "N—not leavin' Harry. Never."

Coughing, his head lowered down and looked at the substantial amount of blood that had falled beneath him and realized his fate. Sighing, he closed his eyes and stayed in place.

"You can only save one of us and it can only be him! You have to pull him out, Hermione. He's too weak to fight you. Just save him."

Hermione wiped her tears off on her sleeve and answered, "But I'll kill you. It c…can't…"

"Draco, you have to be the practical one!" Harry called out, while banging on his cell. "Look at me, damn it!"

Like a bolt, Draco's eyes flashed from Ron to his brother. Harry looked him directly in his wet brown eyes with a set of dry green ones. Letting a moment of understanding pass, Harry begged again, "I can't get out and the Horcrux can't get to me. I've failed. You can still save someone here. Ron… your friend can live. You know someone has to die here. Please... please just save my best friend. One person needs to die."

Rising again, Draco again cleared the blood flooing from his nose and mouth off and nodded, "You're right. Goodbye, Harry."

"_Erradico!_"

With that word, a stream of orange light flew from the tip of Draco's wand to the cup and blasted it into a million pieces. Things happened very quickly then. The energy holding Harry in place vanished and he rushed forward grabbing Ron and pulling him forward from his rune. Harry turned the red head over, searching for any wound to heal, but there was none. Already his eyes were fluttering open and Harry cursed him, "Never do anything that stupid again. You can't always save me!"

"Sure I can," Ron muttered in response. His eyes came into focused a bit more and he added, "'Sides Ginny would do way worse if I came back without you."

The two glanced upward, searching for the others. Both saw at the same time and lacking the strength to do anymore, crawled towards their friends. Hermione was sitting with Draco's head in her lap, clutching his unmoving chest. Her face covered in tears and mouth swung open in a scream from a body too tired to actually form a sound.

Grabbing his brother's arm, Harry remembered. The ring Horcrux had almost killed a fully powered Dumbledore. Even he survived only thanks to other brilliant wizards. And his tired, hungry and wounded brother had just done it to save them… to save him. Draco, who had once told him could count the selfless things he did in his entire lifetime on one hand without the need for a thumb, had decided which one would die. Kneeling next to them, Ron grabbed onto Harry's shoulder and whispered, "No, please, no. Please, no."

Swallowing her pain and ending the silent scream, Hermione simply allowed her tears to flow. He seemed so much older now… not a bit the spoiled child she remembered. With the hand that wasn't holding him, she gently brushed his stubborn auburn bangs out of his face.

"He's not gone," she whispered and covered her mouth with her hand. Harry and Ron looked to her briefly. Like a bolt she grabbed Harry's hand, revealing the smile that gave them all a spark of hope. Placing their joined hands over Draco's face, Harry shook his head. He was about to question her when he felt it; a breath. Ever so slight and quiet, but it was there. He was alive.

Wondering what they noticed, Ron moved his hand up as well and felt the brief recurring breeze.

"How did he—" Ron began.

"Harry could do it," Hermione explained. "He's destroyed two of them and the last time it didn't hurt at all. Your bond with Voldemort makes you immune to the repercussions for destroying his Horcruxes."

"So Ferret has a bond with Voldemort?" Ron asked.

Smiling just a moment, she explained, "No, silly, but he does with Harry. They're both Potters, brothers with the same blood flowing through their veins."

"So it what… confused the spell?"

"Yes, I suppose it did. He probably wouldn't have even lost consciousness if the stupid wonderful moron didn't try to grab the bloody thing first."

"Wonderful?"

"When will he wake up?" Harry interrupted, though he grinned a bit at Ron's final question and noticed how tightly Hermione's left hand was still clutching his brother. As if stirred by the question, Draco's eyes crept open.

He was a bit disoriented both from the intense numb pain in his left arm and the shadow of several hands floating only just above his face. He tried to move, but seemed too tired, but it was enough to alert them that he was awake. The hands flew away and he was now staring up into three sets of crying eyes. With his left arm still immobile, he reached up with his right hand and set it on Hermione's cheek.

"Granger's crying. What did I do wrong now? It hurts a load and I feel rather stupid… probably something Harry would usually do."

Rubbing his hand tightly to her cheek, Hermione sniffled a bit and explained, "Not all tears are an evil thing."

* * *

_Author's Note: Yes! I admit it. Title is completely ripped from Lord of the Rings and then again slightly altered at the ending. But hey, I felt it fit nicely so I stand by the choice. I might have had a bit less to the chapter originally, but I figured a few reviews (of which I now FINALLY have over 100) would call for my head if I ended three out of four chapters with Draco possibly dying. I will mention things will be a bit easier for him for a little while. Not that the body count will stop mind you. I still killed off Dumbledore and once again it was for no great advancement in the war… just an old wounded man fading away. I just really wanted him to pass on happy. And for all the strength of his bond with a few particular students, I don't think he could have left us anywhere more appropriate than the Great Hall, gloriously happy about slippers and how the students were just being normal happy students, if only for one night. I also decided to lose him because, I felt he, like other great men, wouldn't live to see their dream realized except in fleeting instances. I would also like to thank those of you who have reviewed. The encouragement really helped me pound this out before the holiday. Another side note, in my original layout, this was going to be the last chapter in a two-part story. It was originally going to be Harry Potter and the Changed Fates and Harry Potter and the Great War, but I soon realized neither of those really sounded like the title of a Harry Potter book, so thus one story, one title. Until later, enjoy and as always, PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY REVIEW! Okay, I love you, bye, bye._


	19. Solemn Returns

**CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: SOLEMN RETURNS**

The road home from the destruction of the cup of Helga Hufflepuff was not a quick or easy one. It was nearly three hours before Draco was able to stand under his own power again and several more before he could move his left arm without the thick ache causing him to wince. Harry sat and watched the others. Ron checked and rechecked and rechecked their packs to keep his mind busy. Hermione pretended to write in her journal, but Harry could tell she wasn't turning pages or even moving the quill that much. Mostly she just stared at Draco's back and Harry wondered how long he had been missing that. At school, whenever Draco wasn't hospitalized for one near death experience or another (which was far more often than acceptable to Harry), the two Head Students were off working on something for class, or patrolling, planning prefect meetings, or one of their mystery projects. He really had to look into that and find out what they were trying.

But amidst all that, how many nights did they fall asleep on the couch together? How often did Hermione watch Draco? How many times did his brother tense up for some reason he wouldn't voice until he caught her eye for just a split-second.

Removing a scrap of paper he had torn from a textbook one night in the Hospital Wing more than six months ago. In his own hasty script, the information he had on the Horcruxes from the night he failed to find the locket. It had seemed… worthwhile at the time. Like if nothing else, he owed Snape to prove he could do this… he wouldn't fail.

_ Riddle's Diary – Left with Death Eaters_

_The Gaunt Family Ring – Cave near Gaunt and Riddle households_

_Slytherin's Locket – Cave from the orphanage day trip_

_The Hufflepuff Cup – Dark Isle_

_Nagini – with him_

_Something of Ravenclaw's – ????_

Gripping his pin tightly, Harry drew a line through the fourth item so it matched the first three. He figured the sixth one would probably be somewhere else that mattered to Voldemort. There were the rumors that after heading up north he spent a few years in Eastern Europe before returning to England to ask for the Defense Against the Dark Arts position. Tapping the quill impatiently, Harry stuffed the paper back into his pack.

When they finally made their way back into the chamber they spent the last night, Hermione looked up and saw that the dirt hole was now hollowed out. It was already dark outside so there was no light left to filter downward. While the others looked up uncertainly at the hole, Hermione grinned and explained, "I learned this in a book about the wizards of India."

Pulling a string from the edge of her robes, she set it on the ground and took aim with her wand.

"_Tendo Leviosa_," she cast and at the same time the string grew into a two meter rope and began floating upward. Her light grin exploding into a full smile, she exclaimed, "Grab on for the ride!"

The others quickly grabbed the robe and in a flash they were racing back up towards the surface. The once engulfing dirt merely scraped along their backs. True enough, the occasional root reached out to pull them back, but by now they were moving far too rapidly.

"Let go as soon as we pass the surface!" Hermione screamed above the rushing wind.

Sure enough the others managed to follow her instructions to the letter. Well Ron held on a bit longer, but all that meant was he landed soundly on his feet as opposed to his friends who plopped down on their rear ends.

They camped at the site of Baba Yaga's attack confident in the strength of the wards Hermione and Draco set… well at least that it would give them a moment to defend themselves. Their Boxing Day celebration consisted of trudging back through the still and silent woods to the coastline. Sure enough as soon as they broke through the trees, the harsh winter wind was there in force.

The few evening hours were spent with three of them digging around since Ron forgot to mark where the brooms were buried. Draco decided and continued to argue he helped the situation better by glaring at Ron judgmentally. By the time they finally found them, the sun was quickly on its way to setting again. The wind tore across the sea, sending waves crashing to the shore fiercely. It seemed there would be a debate about whether or not to leave right away or camp again.

"We should bloody well be off," Draco argued. "The whole point of this field trip was to get away and back without anyone noticing. Its utterly barmy to spend another night out here."

"Oh come off it," Ron shot back. "We're all hurt and tired and it's… blimey it's cold out."

Hermione nervously fingered at her broom and added, "It's already Tuesday night. I don't think showing up for dinner Wednesday would be any worse that being there for breakfast."

Obstinately kicking the sand, Draco turned to his brother and pleaded, "Can't we just get this over with? If I can fly, you damn well can."

"No, we'll wait another night," Harry replied while looking out to sea. "We're already a few days later than we wanted to be… and I don't feel up for another night crossing. Neither do you so stop arguing for the sake of arguing."

"I don't do that," Draco rebutted and marched quickly back to the clearing they had used several nights ago.

That night they finished off the last of their food and went to bed early. The sun was still far from up the next morning when Harry led the way, kicking off the beach and into the dreary sky. The return flight went a bit faster, mostly Draco pushing ahead and setting them at a quicker pace. The wind wasn't too bad until they were three-quarters of the way back and they swung back over the clouds of the storm front. The added height meant waiting for a less confident Hermione and even Draco missed the warming charms that had apparently run out since their last trip.

Night was fast approaching when Harry's map revealed they were nearly back to Bokmalo. Pulling his robes tighter around him, Harry prepared for the soaking he'd receive flying down through the clouds. Whatever brief exhaustion the trip had left on him was wiped away when he broke through the clouds. The drenching of the clouds combined with the harsh winds nearly froze him razor straight. Immediately, he began leading the descent back towards the city.

They all saw it from far off. The brief candle and fireplace lights that had said farewell to them the week before were now replaced by larger fires, burning brightly despite the snow. The entire city it seemed to be alight.

"Follow together!" Harry yelled and lay forward, pushing the foreign broom as fast as it could go. The wind whipped the hood of his robe back and Harry was utterly drenched. Still he pushed harder, praying silently to hear something… some noise to indicate someone was there.

He hit the ground hard just south of the barn they left… or at least where the barn would have been if it still stood. A moment after he landed, a rough crash came from his right. Beside him, Draco picked himself up quickly and began marching out into the open street.

Grabbing his shoulder, Harry yanked back and cursed, "Damn it, stay back. They might still be here!"

"Who gives a damn? We need a fireplace. There are Death Eaters around and you're a thousand blooming kilometers from Hogwarts. I need to get you the hell out of here."

Draco began marching out again and Harry pulled back again and argued quietly and mercilessly, "So stop being so stupid, you self-righteous bastard. This time we find a way to save me without you getting ready to die… so stop trying."

Snapping his attention back to Harry, Draco prepared a savage assault that died on his lips when he saw the raw and genuine concern offered back. Simply nodding, he continued to scan what he could see of the streets until Hermione and Ron landed gently behind them. Once together, Harry led their way quietly around the outskirts of the town, carefully watching the inner city. Odin's Maiden was nothing more than a scorched single wall. The sign that swung wildly over the front door was hanging by a single bolt and any chance of returning the way they came was gone.

Another shop nearby looked mostly intact though the front windows of the dress shop were smashed open. Harry motioned for the others to wait and crept down an alley towards the main street. Draco was quickly trailing after him, a tight grip on his wand and eyes scanning back and forth. Hermione made to follow, but Ron held her shoulder firmly and shook his head.

Checking both directions twice and pulling his own wand free, Harry hustled across the road and silently hopped through the empty windowpane.

The abandoned building that once was home to Gareth's Garments was almost completely destroyed. The racks once full of clothes were now covered in charred embers. Draco was the one to find the fireplace quickly and knocked an empty dish to the ground before finding one with some Floo powder left over.

Harry, on the other had, was kneeling over the bodies of what he could only assume were Gareth and his family. The children cramped under their parent's bodies were just as motionless.

"Harry, I'm going to get the others," Draco called from behind him. "Stay out of sight until we get back."

Nodding briefly, Harry removed his outer robe and set it over them. Running his hand quickly through his hair, he grabbed his wand and squeezed slightly. An entire town destroyed, in one monster's bid for power over the lives of every witch and wizard in the world. He glanced quickly over his shoulder at some cracking glass. Seeing only Hermione, he turned his attention back to the bodies next to him. Hardening his expression, he muttered under his breath, "Two more… two more and I'll end him. I promise."

There were only two destination points available with the Ministry ban in effect. Arguing to report it as quickly as possible, Draco threw some powder into the flames and called out, "Number 12 Grimmauld Place!"

Stepping through immediately, he was greeting by the raised wands of Tonks and Moody. The younger witch lowered her wand immediately and moved to greet him. Alastor's magical eye gave him a couple more quick sweeps before nodding slightly.

Ron was the last one through and by that time Hermione was sitting with Tonks on the sofa and listening to her explain, "We feared the worse when Absalon came through the other day. He got a couple dozen out… had quite a time coming up with a good story to give the Ministry on that one, but Kingsley took them to the refuge camp this morning. I'm glad you're okay, duck."

Ron didn't have time to wipe the soot off before Draco was pushing him out of the way and arguing with Moody.

"You should wait, Potter."

"Later, I'm getting in position and getting our sources to make contact. We need to know if this is the end of it or not."

"It can wait until--"

"You have Harry. I'll be back in an hour."

"There's something—" Moody began only to be interrupted by the _pop_ of Draco's apparation. "Damn nutter! Never bloody listens! If I've told Dumbledore once, I've…"

It was at this point when Tonk's sobbed a bit and the students noticed the state of the two Order members. What they at first thought were brief tears of happiness to see them again were now something more. Tonk's eyes were red and puffy like she'd been at it for a while and the bags under her eyes indicated she hadn't slept in a good while. Even Moody's normal angry countenance had a softer edge about it. Both were also in their formal dress robes though it appeared given how wrinkled they were that they had been in them a while.

Hermione caught on a moment before the others and Ron was still a bit lost when Harry shook his head and asked, "When?"

Clearing his throat, Moody growled, "Two days ago. They had a service at the school yesterday. He left instructions and wanted everything wrapped up right quick. You knew."

Even if the last part wasn't really a question, Harry nodded and the tears he had fought all night to hold in began breaking free. Hermione broke down more openly, sobbing while clutching her face into Tonk's robes. Ron's confused expression turned dark while Moody led him off to the kitchen to explain everything. When they returned rather than questioning the others about why they knew and didn't tell him, Ron just sat next to his friends and held their hands.

Just over an hour later, the fireplace turned green and an instant later Draco popped through and wiped his robes off. Without acknowledging the state of anyone, he began rattling off, "Seems it was four cities up north to take the hit. Plans only leaked this last week, but it looks like he took heavier losses this time. We were ready… well more so. We should go over it in private…… Moody?"

Though the older man still looked downwards, his bad eye swung up and focused narrowly on the student. Eventually, the older man nodded and made towards the kitchen yet again. Draco looked to the others and with a perfectly even expression said, "Is he……right. I'll talk to you later."

Turning heel, Draco barely got a step before his brother called after him, "How do you do it?"

He didn't turn, but let his brother continue, "Is it like Occlumency? Can you really just turn off the part of you that feels? I imagine that's what it takes to spy… to kill… I suppose I have a lot to learn. I mean, I think I've toughened up a bit over the years… Heavens know I've lived through my fair share of it. Why can't you even cry? Is it something they did when you were with the Malfoys that you can be so… hard?"

Hermione started to utter her friend's name to stop him, but Draco broke in, still facing the kitchen, "Shut the hell up about things you know nothing about! He did it, Harry. He did when he convinced me not to kill him. I thought I could still avoid it… being in this thing… this war, but look what being soft got him… got her, our… Since I really decided to help you, I haven't wept for Dumbledore or the people of Bokmalo or Weasley's mum or brother or anyone else in this bloody war. You'll see before the end. You'll get hard to get through it."

"I'll be strong," Harry answered, "but I won't give up who I am or how I feel for it. Caring for them is what makes me strong. You shouldn't have to give anything up either. You know I'll be here for you, right? We all are and we… will be. You can show you feel."

"He cares," Hermione interrupted from her place on the couch. "We all show it differently, but we all care. We'll get through it hard or soft… but all together. W-when do we go back?"

Tonk's smiled tightly and replied, "Let Draco and Mad-Eye have their little secret society spy meeting and I'll see you all back to school."

Without another word, Draco went out to the kitchen. Harry could briefly see the ex-Auror casting silencing and secrecy charms on the room before the door swung shut once more. The secretive meeting ended briefly thereafter and Moody led the younger man out into the living room. Ron still sat on the couch between his friends, holding one of each of their hands on his lap. Tonks was fidgeting nervously and standing behind Draco's favorite purple chair.

Moody elbowed him in the back and after shooting a venomous look out that Moody returned in force, Draco coughed and drew the attention of everyone else in the room.

"We should… get back," he explained, motioning loosely towards the fireplace. "I'm… s—I'm not such good company after dealing with Zabini and the others."

Smirking ever-so-slightly, Moody added, "Potter called me and Remus any number of ungentlemanly things after their first meeting. Wished we still had Molly to set aft………… right improper of him."

The awkward silence stretched just a bit longer before Tonks clapped her hands together and rubbed them firmly together.

"So," she began, "we should be off. We'll apparate to the Order's meeting place in Hogsmeade… it's an empty room at the back of the Hog's Head. We'll side-along since it's your first time there."

"Mr. Weasley, you'll be with me and young Miss Granger will go with Tonks," Moody snapped off in his most efficient manner. "You Potters better not move an inch 'til we come back to claim you."

"We should stop at the… you know."

"What?" Hermione asked.

Tonks looked to the older man, who sharply answered, "The tomb. We'll stop for you to have your goodbyes, but then it's straight to Dumb… to Minerva's office."

Before long they were all walking down the steps and through the Hog's Head. It was a rather quiet afternoon in the pub with only a couple of hooded figures in a shadowy corner. Moody's constantly moving eye stayed focused on them almost the entire walk across the room, glancing swiftly to the bartender only once. The rather grumpy man behind the bar was unusually attentive. He watched Harry make his way across the nearly empty room and swept a few crumbs from his long grey beard before he resumed silently cleaning the mugs.

Once out the door, Harry pulled his hood up, making sure his hair would cover the distinctive scar on his forehead. Navigating his way through the crowded streets, he never even thought of heading back through town past Hogsmeade Station to the school's main gates. Besides the risk of being noticed, the way was too crowded with the refugees that had made their camp to the east of the town.

Instead their path led into the woods and took the long way round the lake. It was a slower, rougher way, but still left them nearly an hour before dinner by the time they broke through the clearing and started across the gentle rolling fields that led up to the castle. The snow on this center area was well-trampled down, as if a great flood of visitors had past through. Moody's firm grip on his shoulder redirected him away from the castle and towards the lake.

The afternoon breeze stirred up a slight mist on the rocks just east of the main path. Through the fog he began to make out the white sarcophagus sitting on a high ivory rock overlooking the lake. With a pat from Moody, Harry started forward towards it. He never noticed as the others drew to a halt several meters back. Alone he walked up the two steps cloven roughly into the rocks and stood over it.

The mist left a seemingly permanent dew and shine to the structure. The intricate designs of the House crests were on each side. The only one Harry couldn't see was the one for Gryffindor that must have been on the side facing out over the lake. The lid had two phoenixes raised out of it, their wings spread in flight towards the front and rear of the structure. Carved between them was the name and dates of birth and death: 'Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, February 1, 1840-December 24, 1997.'

Beneath that were his various titles and recognitions that Harry had read on every Hogwarts letter for the last seven years. Not recognizing the Latin phrase carved elegantly above the delicate circular patterns that traced the outer edge of the lid, Harry turned back to the others to ask Draco or Hermione to translate. Before he could ask, Moody lifted his chin slightly and spoke firmly, "Some things are meant to last."

Tonks elbowed him slightly, her tight grin providing a window to a bit of inner mirth. Shifting in place for a moment, Moody added, "The last part doesn't translate proper… at least as anything import—"

"Flernicket," Tonks explained.

Nodding briefly, Harry ran his hand over the inscription slowly, feeling his way across and around every letter. Holding back the dampness in his eyes, he turned back towards the castle after whispering, "On to another great adventure, Professor."

Upon his turning around, his eyes were no longer damp and his features held an unusually harsh edge. He still returned Hermione's sad smile and the warmth that was always just beneath the surface of his gaze was there. But the soft traces of his youth and childhood seemed less present than they were minutes earlier. There are some moments that cannot be experienced without leaving our youth behind us. The sorrowful acceptance of his mentor's death was that moment for Harry Potter.

Back in the castle, the already subdued student body apparently was even more so following Dumbledore's death. The halls they past through were empty save for a pair of Aurors patrolling the second floor. When they reached the gargoyle to the headmaster's office, Moody muttered the password under his breath so none of the others could make it out. Whatever he said was apparently correct as the creature slowly creaked off to the right, allowing entrance to the stairway.

Harry followed Moody directly up and when they received permission to enter he paused a moment to look at the many faces turned towards them. Professor McGonagall was perched sharply behind Dumbledore's former desk. Seating in the couch in front of the desk were Bill and Fleur with Flitwick and Slughorn in chairs on either side of the couple. Remus was pacing off towards the south side of the room, but froze in his tracks when he saw who entered.

The former clutter and randomness of the room was no longer present. Nothing was wizzing by in the air or rolling around on a desk. The more organized room was now a bit more compact with bookshelves lining the walls. A new portrait was hanging on the far left wall near the desk. In it Dumbledore appeared to be napping peacefully, sliding back and forth across the panel as if sitting in a rocking chair. Behind the desk, the stout, silver-haired image of Dilys Derwent looked down on the proceedings with a warm and unexpectedly comforting smile on her face.

Quickly, Harry found himself wrapped up in Remus' embrace and trying not to grip him back too tightly. A voice behind him drawled, "Leave off, Moony. Let the git breath."

Harry felt the older man's left hand leave his back and with a huff pulled another large mass of wizard into the hug. Glancing over he had to fight down the urge to giggle at Draco's confused expression and slight attempts to return the hug.

Once their small group broke apart, McGonagall stood and greeted the students, "Welcome back, all of you. I hope your mission went well."

"Yes, Professor, we destroyed the H—" Harry began before biting his tongue. No one but the four of them and Dumbledore knew the specifics of the mission. While keeping his eyes purposefully away from Slughorn, he continued, "Complete success. For now we need to look for something else, so we need access to whatever the Headma…to Professor Dumbledore's research. I know he—"

"Yes, of course Mr. Potter," McGonagall explained after she sat down. "Our dear friend had time enough to plan everything out. His entire book collection he requested to be left in the care of your brother and Miss Granger. It was a quite extensive collection kept in several rooms up on the fifth floor. We will be happy to continue to store them as long as you need."

Even in her grief, Hermione's head chirped up ever so slightly at the news. Realizing what a precious gift that was to be trusted to receive this and what an honor it was, she wiped at her eyes and remained silent.

"Bill, what do we do now?" Ron asked, shuffling in place lightly.

"Well, I suppose dinner's next," he answered with a grin. "As far as the Order, most of the staff has been inducted. We're trying to figure out if the attacks are—"

"They're done for now, too many losses," Moody answered definitively.

Remus rubbed his cheeks and tried to clear the fog that seemed to surround everything in the world since Dumbledore past on. It cleared quite a bit when Tonks took his left hand and held it down away from his face. Sighing, he asked, "How do we know for certain?"

"I have… some sources," Draco answered calmly. "Some poor blokes in Poland killed Amycus Carrow and his sister lost an eye. Avery's attack on the Stockholm Ministry was a near disaster; three captured and Dolohov will be out of commission for at least two months. They've… They're consolidating for a few months… people are scared so recruitment is going to be a focus."

"We'll need the adult members of the Order on that," Harry decided. "We need to recruit on our own. People we can trust."

Leaning forward, McGonagall replied calmly, "Those of us at the school, both teachers and Aurors, are needed here. Remus, I think this might be a nice job opportunity."

Huffing, he plopped down in a chair off to the side. He grunted again when Tonks plopped in his lap and answered, "Well… I suppose its an improvement over werewolves snapping at my heels every night. What do you say, Alastor?"

His magic eye twirled around excitedly a few times, giving away some emotion behind his blank stare and the slight nod was all the more confirmation he offered. A brief silence was ended when a nervous and still-shuffling Ron asked, "What about students?"

"No students," Draco broke in right away.

"Says who?" Hermione retorted, elbowing him gently.

Smirking just a bit, he shot back, "Me… no need for—"

"Be serious. We need all the help we can get. The students don't have children to lose and might still believe strong enough to stand up to the Death Eaters. Let's come up with a list," Harry interrupted. "And it's their choice, but… the four of us… Fred and George deserve places. I want Neville in."

"Mr. Longbottom?!" McGonagall exclaimed.

Sharing a grin with his dear friend's son, Remus smiled and conceded, "Harry's right. Neville will do us all proud."

Hobbling over to another free chair, Moody concurred, "Comes from good stock that one."

"Anyone else?" Draco asked with a tight expression. "Please none of the younger ones."

"Nobody not leaving the school," Harry agreed. "That means no Ginny—"

"She'll take that well, mate," Bill added with a smirk.

"And no Luna."

"Vell they weel take care of each other," Fleur mentioned.

"But there are some others I trust. Parvati and Padma are smart witches and they didn't want to leave the school last year. They care about things."

"Padma will join," Hermione remarked. "That means Parvati will come aboard and that means Lavender will join."

"Ron, that going to be ?" Harry asked with a wide smile.

His cheek inflamed, he muttered, "mmmm… Luna's loads more fit... be loads more fun… she's good prefect though… not all bad."

"I'll take that as a yes. Maybe Terry and Goldstein… we could offer Seamus and Dean, but they both have other plans after graduation. So that's twelve… maybe fourteen."

"I zhink it vill be fourteen," Fleur mentioned while rubbing her hands together nervously. "Miseour Thomas vill fight for e's place in our vorld and Miseour Finnegan vill not let 'em fight alone."

"Fourteen students…" McGonagall remarked while glancing sadly at the portrait to her right. "So many."

"Fifteen," Draco added. "I want Susan Bones."

Hermione nearly choked on the thought by the time Draco caught himself. Smiling at her red cheeks he finished, "For the Order I mean."

"Bones' given more than their share," Moody grumbled. "Edgar and Amelia alone. And... the girl is—"

"A fighter," the younger man interrupted. "I know a thing or two about losing family. We were partners in Herbology two years ago… went on about that bloody aunt of hers non-bloody-stop. She was the girl's hero. Losing family…"

Draco paused and glanced towards his brother and went on, "You either fall apart or fight. And considering I'm the only one here ever been on the working side of her wand I'll tell you… the girl's a fighter."

"What about Hannah then?" Ron asked.

"No, since her mother's… she barely keeps up with classes," Hermione argued. "Her prefect duties have been neglected and she hardly even attends the DA meetings anymore."

"What happened?"

"Some fall," Draco replied shortly. "Anyone else, Harry?"

"No… no. It's fifteen students. Who else do we have?"

Moody rattled off the names quickly, "Me, Remus, Nymphadora, McGonagall, Kingsley, Flitwick, Slughorn, Hagrid, Arthur, Bill and Fleur—"

"And Charlie," Bill made sure to include.

"Figg, not much help though being a Squib, Diggle and Doge, Podmore, Hestia, Absalon and… well… four others you haven't met yet… and some allies, but not full members."

The entire room whipped their heads around at an unexpected interruption. The painting of Dumbledore continued to snooze the late afternoon away, but they all heard the muttered word.

"Aberforth."

Unable to contain his smile a moment longer, Harry repeated, "Aberforth. Might need to meet him one of these days."

A slight silence was broken by Hermione, who at some point had pulled a piece of parchment out and had been ticking off checkmarks and initials. She announced, "That's fifteen students and twenty-three adults… so… thirty-eight total. Against…"

"How many confirmed Death Eaters on the loose?" Harry questioned.

"Including Voldemort?" Draco asked, taking the standard moment for some present to shudder, but it was perhaps not as long as it usually took… not in this group.

Harry nodded and at the same time Draco and Moody tonelessly declared, "One hundred, fifty-two."

The defeated silence was broken by Hermione musing, "So few of us and so many of them."

"We'll get more," Harry replied, his voice full of honest confidence. "We have to lead though… show people they can stand up and not be afraid. Think about it… there's tens of thousands of magical people in England and Europe and less than two hundred of them are willing to serve him."

"Well, why don't more fight him?!" Ron yelled. "I mean it's mad... he'd kill all the muggleborns and… and Hermione and everyone has friends he's killed or he'd kill… why aren't there more?!"

"Ron…" Bill began to explain, but it was the colder voice of the Head Boy that put things plainly.

"Because you won't kill the ones that don't join you…hell Weasley… people… good people like you and Moody… you don't have it in you to kill the people trying to kill you. You're too decent for it. As long as they kill and blackmail and coerce, the Death Eaters will have the numbers and keep good wizards and witches from joining us out of fear. Bravery… not some Gryffindor notion… but real bravery is far too rare and far too hard. You yell and scream at the cowards, who just don't want to come home to a Dark Mark and lost loved ones… Complacency is incredibly easy… I know."

"You know…" Ron muttered angrily. A moment later, he forced a grin and decided, "So just like you they'll come around at the end and be heroes… befriend the legend that is Harry Potter… get the girl and all that."

"Ronald, please," Hermione chastised, her cheeks inflamed. "He isn't… that is to say…"

"We all have our reasons to work together and I'll thank you not to question me," Draco explained.

At this, McGonagall rose and announced, "True enough. Now if you intend to make dinner-as we all should-I think we ought to conclude this. Remus and Moody will recruit who they can outside the school, Harry will lead the effort in the school and after graduation we will come together. In the meantime, we should be about our business."

Solemn nods were made all around and while most of the adults gathered near the fireplace, the Headmistress of Hogwarts concluded, "Professor Weasley… pardon, Professors Weasley, please see our students to the Great Hall. The others and I will follow shortly."

The group was barely two meters down the stairs and out the hall before a smiling Ron remarked, "Professors? What's on with this then?"

Fleur's blushing cheeks only rose when Bill pressed a sloppy kiss to them and remarked, "Fleur will be taking over for Professor McGonagall's transfiguration classes until at least the end of term."

"That's lovely," Hermione offered. "Congratulations."

Nodding, the blonde-haired woman explained, "I vill v—work extra 'ard on both my acsent and lessons. Et iz a terribly large duty. I musn't let McGonegaal down."

"Course you won't," Ron assured her.

"But my Beel does not mention et all. 'E iz now 'Ead of Gryffendor House."

Ron apparently felt far more his old self, letting a whoop out and leaping into the air. Hermione was nearly crushed by the effort and sped up a step to come even with Draco. Harry smiled a bit more openly and offered, "Well done, Bill. I'm sure you'll do us all proud. What… I suppose a lot changed?"

"Dumbledore knew it was coming, like the Headmistress said," Bill answered solemnly, his unblinking eye focused on the student beside him. "All the changes are temporary until the Governors convene at the close of term. But he made sure McGonagall was the choice of enough of them. She'll keep the job."

"Crafty bugger to the end," Draco mumbled just plainly enough to be heard by the rest.

Bill continued, "And Flitwick will stand as Deputy. Unless they move me out, I'll probably stay Head of Gryffindor. No other teachers from our House on staff. But… well they'll want to make some change for the sake of change so another Transfiguration professor is probably…"

"I'm terribly sorry Fleur," Hermione remarked, taking the older girl's hand. "Despite everything, I have to admit you did a wonderful job assisting this year. It's a shame."

Her airy presence in full swing and head held high, the Frenchwoman answered, "I serve at ze pleasure of ze 'eadmistress. I just wish to 'elp az much az I can……and be near my Beel."

Apparently unprepared for what came next, the elder Weasley nearly tripped at the surprise of his wife leaping into his arms and kissing his own cheek rather messily. He honestly couldn't resist the urge to return the kiss and swing her around just once; her hair trailing behind and around their heads like a veil of gold.

Dinner that night was a quiet affair. Not many outside of Gryffindor remarked that Harry and his group had returned. The stares were enough to make him feel uneasy. He had missed the passing and the funeral of Dumbledore and any hopes of going unmissed were vanished. He could only hope it didn't spread beyond the student body.

The ever-present tangibility of Ginny's hand wrapped tightly in his while they ate kept him a bit as ease. When he walked into the Great Hall, their eyes immediately met, but she stayed in her seat and waited for him to come to her and protected whatever might remain of the secret adventure. Still they hadn't separated since he sat down.

Remarkably, he didn't really feel any different after everything that had happened. He wasn't a tougher or more grown-up person. He felt just as he always did, even finding a smile on his face looking around him. Neville was avoiding talking about where they had been, instead describing the memorial service in great detail. Most of them paid attention, except for Draco, who was most likely hearing the same story at his own table from Sarah, and Ron, who opted to sit down next to Luna.

Smiling a bit more, Harry could just make out her faint voice explaining a terrible rinsnake outbreak in Portugal to a nervous Ron. She seemed to continue on in her normal flighty attitude, but just looking at her one could see her hair practically stand on end whenever Ron would lean closer. It was the hesitant, almost-not-there kisses he offered her at the end of the night that had Dean and Seamus teasing the red-head all the way back to the Tower. Harry and Neville accompanied him and each threw an arm of his shoulder in a show of support.

"Enough of that," a pink-cheeked Ginny demanded, harshly silencing the boys. Barely to the first set of moving steps, she leapt onto Ron's back and insisted, "I saved you, so I suppose you owe me a ride back to the Tower."

Gin roughly smacked the heels of her shoes into her brother's thighs and he cursed, "Damn it, Ginny! Why do you have to be such a baby?"

Of course, the argument didn't stop him from hoisting her into a more comfortable position on his back. The others, even Seamus and Dean, were kind enough to stand a bit apart from them while Ginny held her brother tightly and whispered private messages in his ears.

At one point, Harry thought he heard, "couldn't lose you."

He tried his best to tone it out and offer them some measure of privacy. Of course once back in their own common room, Ginny planted herself at Harry's side on the couch and together they stared into the flames of the fireplace. The only outer sign of affection were the fingers of her right hand entwined with those of his left. The hours past and most of the students passed on to the upper floors, only glancing… well staring at the returned Harry.

Eventually, even Ron was dragged away by the other seventh year boys. Harry glanced towards them and shared a brief nod with his best friend. Looking back to the flames, he was confident Ron would bring three new perspective Order members into the fold by the end of the night.

Seeing they were alone, Harry leaned closer and whispered to her, "Do you want to hear about what—"

"No," she interrupted and continued to look forward. "At least… not now. You're all back and safe. I-I'm sorry about Dumbledore."

"I know," he answered. Finally turning from the fireplace, Harry leaned closer and added, "But we'll go on for him."

Harry pushed a soft kiss into her forehead and pulled back.

"We'll survive."

He now went to her cheek.

"We'll live."

Finally, their lips met and didn't part for some time.

It was several hours after their kiss ended when, far away from the two Gryffindors snoozing away on their couch, the main entrance to the Head Student's common room swung wildly open and Hermione cursed, "You honestly want to see us all dead, don't you?"

"Could you be more dramatic, Granger?" Draco mumbled as he followed her in, his arms laden with no fewer than a dozen thick texts he dropped onto the main couch. "A library like that I thought you'd be gushingly glad over."

"I am!" Hermione shot back, her cheeks red from the long argument that had taken them through the winding corridors from the rooms stuffed beyond imagination with the texts Dumbledore had accumulated in his private studies over the last century to their own humble accommodations. "But we don't have to be so foolish with our lives. He figured it out. The last Horcrux. He found it… it must have been only hours before he… when he passed."

"But we still need to find it, don't we. And we have a bit of information Dumbledore never did. If only we sat down and discussed more things—"

"Stop blaming yourself, Potter!" Hermione yelled while grabbing him tightly by the robes. "It's getting so old and tiring and so pointless… and I don't want to go through blaming you anymore or… or risking your life."

Draco found his hand wrapping around Hermione's far more gently then he had intended. He had meant to rip it away, but instead there they sat over his heart. Sputtering briefly, he added, "It's a calculated risk. But Dumbledore knew what… what _he_ did and how important he was… if anyone encountered Voldemort on his trip east it was _him_. The headmaster just didn't know what I did… that he was still alive. Someone else who made a Horcrux and I… and we know where he is."

"And he'd kill you… for the love of—he destroyed a wizarding nation and helped a muggle one on it's way. He'll kill you."

Smirking, Draco replied, "Not before he helps us. It was power for him… never destroying muggleborns. Besides I'll have you to protect me."

The jokes he had planned died on his lips when Hermione wrapped her arms around him in a flash. The smaller frame was far stronger than appearances indicated and he felt well and truly and gloriously trapped. When he leaned down and kissed the top of her head, Hermione's head shot up so fast it nearly smashed his nose in.

"There are other ways to find Rowena Ravenclaw's designbook," she muttered. The tears sliding down her cheeks finally conveyed to Draco how much his plan worried her. Hermione didn't even try to wipe them away. When he reached for them himself, she practically jumped back and cursed, "Damn it, Potter. No. Stop trying to pretend you don't matter to me. You can't be my friend one minute to keep me appeased and stop the instant I worry about you. Just stop it! Because I do! I worry. You work so hard for stopping him and-and I know you look at your mother's pictures almost every night and... and there was that... of me. I-I-I don't want you to do it! Does that matter? We can send the adults… the Aurors."

"And you think that will go well?" Draco answered more fiercely than he intended. "He'll kill everyone of them before he gives in to force. But if just the four of us go and ask he will—"

"You almost died! So many—you need to stop this deathwish of yours because it _hurts_ me!"

Hermione was shuffling back towards her room, trying to put room between them. The blatant honesty was something they hadn't pushed much. They had become the unofficial king and queen of avoiding this particular subject. When Draco finally looked up from the floor and caught her eyes, Hermione's backward movements were frozen. Words still found their way past her lips.

"I l—we're… w-we're friends and I… I could go without you… you could stay here for once and Harry and Ron and I can solve this just like we always did."

Stepping towards her, Draco explained, "You've never fought a war before, Granger. I…I promise… I promise not to take any risks that aren't needed. I offered to let you and the others come along……… I'll go with my friends… is-is that enough for you?"

He was now directly in front of Hermione again and with her back flush against her bedroom door there was nowhere left to run. Draco leaned closer and swallowed a long-held breath before he repeated, "Is that enough for you? Because it isn't for me. It just isn't anymore, Hermione."

Unable to look at him, she instead retreated her gaze to the ink smudge on his collar she found her eyes pulled towards more and more often… so often. "This is it then… no more running from it."

"I'm tired of running," he breathed out slowly. They had given up on being true enemies over the summer. The grudging respect had taken over and by the time they started their secret projects a real trust had developed. After that it became confusing for Draco. He couldn't find the moment no matter how hard he searched his memory when that trust and the leftovers of a half-decade of interest over a forbidden had become friendship. "When did it happen?"

Hermione parted her lips slightly as if to answer his last thought. Instead they clamped shut again while he continued, "When did passing out next to you become preferable to my own bed? When did I start giving up thoughts…changing opinions? When did… when did this happen, Granger?"

It didn't take him motioning to their bodies pressed up against one another to imply what he was talking about. But still Hermione took the moment to analyze everything. They had been dancing around what they wanted and felt for weeks at least… maybe longer than either realized. But it had brought them to this moment. The forever taciturn Draco Potter had given in and Hermione barely recognized his hands rubbing her back before she decided to leap in as well.

"It happened now," she mumbled. "When you almost died… for nearly the... lord for nearly the fifth time. It happened when you almost kissed me last week. It happened when you became a Potter. It happened when we faced off in fifth year. When you made those evil and…and rather ingenious pins for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. It happened when… when I slapped you. When you called me Mudblood. When you actually checked in on me when I was petrified by the basilisk. When we met. Got our Hogwarts letters. Grew up. When we were born, Draco. It's just how our lives happened."

Finally Draco cracked a smile when her eyes left the ink smudge he left unwashed simply since she seemed to like it. There weren't any tears there anymore. Even if he always knew he'd go through everything with Harry, Draco realized now that there would be no going through it without Hermione as well. Before giving in and falling, he mused, "It was before that, Granger. Our parents and grandparents finding one another. This war and others before it. The whole crazy course of human wanderings and the universe starting off, got us to this."

Giggling ever so slightly, but not removing her bemused eyes from his, she remarked, "Just a bit arrogant, Potter?"

"Always, Granger."

And while she rose onto her toes, his shoulders dipped and the last inch was closed. Draco might have thought himself a sympathetic moron worthy of scorn, but when the admiration and hand-holding and hugs ended and he found her lips for the first time it really seemed like he described. Like some journey far older than their years was completed so a fresh one could start in its place. It wasn't hard for his hands to find their way from her upper back to clutch desperately at her waist. He fought and failed against the urge to smirk into the kiss when her fingers threaded behind his neck. Instead of chastisement, Hermione vented her frustration by squeezing him closer and trying to give as much into it as she wanted. Somehow she had fallen so completely and utterly into this situation that there was nothing left but to hold on tight and ride it out.

It was all strange after the first few moments. At the same time moments were being burned into their hearts and memories in every small detail, they also seemed to be caught in only glimpses and flashes. His left hand sliding up her back and threading itself as deeply as possible into her hair, tangling in several knots at the same time. Her right leg wrapping its way around his left. His tongue sneaking past her lips and meeting her own.

Well down the line it finally all evolved into desperate gasps for air and tentative, almost frightened pecks at one another's face and neck. Obviously the first to find words again, Hermione nearly whispered, ignoring the fact they were utterly alone, "What do we do now?"

"Live our lives. I thought that much was obvious, Granger."

Somehow she found the strength left to punch his shoulder and retort, "I was speaking of the more specific and immediate, Potter."

Kissing her forehead briefly, Draco decided to trap his other hand utterly in Hermione's hair and sent it slowly up her back and in with its mate.

"We go to bed, preferably on the couch next to one another, wake-up and discuss with Harry and Weasley our trip to meet the only other living creature to do something as utterly evil as create a Horcrux."

"You'll be careful?"

"He really isn't that bad."

Pushing him away, Hermione grinned and shot back, "Potter! You need to be more cautious about this… please."

Taking her hand, Draco led them over to the couch and silently summoned the sheets from his bed into the room with them. He kissed her again and trying to push his promise to be careful into it, muttered, "You're a right historian in the making. You honestly never wanted to meet Grigori Rasputin?"


	20. Secrets and Mysteries

**CHAPTER NINETEEN: SECRETS AND MYSTERIES  
**

The next morning came too quickly for Ron. He had been up late explaining what had been happening to Neville, Dean and Seamus. Trying to leave the more secretive details out of it, Ron sometimes paused for long moments thinking of what to say. He wasn't nearly as good at being sneaky as the Potters or as clever as Hermione, but thought he managed all right. He had barely explained what the Order was and who were some of the members when he let it slip that Harry wanted the three of them to join after graduation.

Neville, who had never heard of the group before, was more than fascinated upon hearing his parents were founding members. Ron hadn't even gotten around to asking before the usually timid boy decided, "I want t-to help you. I'll join up and do anything I can."

"Good thing, too," Ron replied, "since you were the first one Harry said he wanted in."

The blush of pride swept over his entire face, pushing out the last faint remnants of his fear. When offered spots, Dean rubbed his face briefly before stating, "I was going to apply for work in the Ministry… but I'll help out if I can. I can keep an eye on things there and all you need to do is holler if you need help."

As soon as his best friend finished speaking, Seamus had clapped him on the back and decided, "I'm in, too. We're hoping to work together in the British and Irish Quidditch League Headquarters. We won't turn our back on Harry or you either."

The group didn't talk for too much longer. It was already well past two in the morning. Unfortunately for Ron, the next few hours were filled with a restless sleep. It seemed Neville had caught a case of the sniffles at the funeral and in the last two days it had spread to the rest of the dorm. Harry had told him of his enormous aunt and her earth-shattering nostrils, this was thankfully more just an annoyance – a slight annoyance, one that was consistent to say the least – one that had him tossing and turning and kicking his blankets in futility – one that Would. Not. Go. Away. The wheezing and snoring of his bunkmates had Ron at one point even pulling out his Charms textbook to try and find that silencing spell he kept forgetting.

By the crack of dawn, he puttered his corpse of a body down the stairs to the common room in the hopes of a couple peaceful hours on the couch. His favorite orange blanket was draped over his shoulder and his pillow tucked under his arm.

"Blimey," he groaned upon seeing his young sister currently spread across the very couch he was aiming for with her head pillowed in the lap of his best friend. Cursing under his breath, Ron snapped his fingers when he remembered he had a private room just up the stairs and through a magical hallway. Creeping back up, he silently set his pillow back down, but kept the blanket and made his way through the secret passageway to the Head Student's dorm.

As he stepped through the doorway and turned towards the door to the left… he honestly didn't care if he found his way to the extra bedroom or the library as long as there was somewhere to lay down in peace. Of course, he stopped in his tracks when he spotted a rather large pile hidden under a blanket on the couch below. Now the stacks of books spread out on the table (and in fact scattered throughout the entire room) were nothing of a surprise. The familiar face and now-auburn hair of Draco with a wild main of brown tucked tightly to his left was a bit more so.

Grumbling again, Ron resisted the urge to throw his blanket at the git and wished he had brought the extra pillow for just such a reason. Eventually, his agitated mumbling was interrupted by a colossal yawn and when the two figures below him began to stir, Ron retreated into the extra bedroom and finally found the sleep that had been avoiding him for too long.

Just before passing out, he decided that even if Hermione could do what she wanted and the Ferret wasn't as bad as he once was this was still at least a decent secret to be in on. It couldn't be said he didn't learn to appreciate that from his time with Lavender. Back then he knew everything you'd ever want to (and more than a few things you didn't want to) know about the romantic lives of the Hogwarts student body. If nothing else he might be able to annoy the bugger over it and upsetting Draco was never going to stop being entertaining for Ron Weasley. So after lending a few fleeting thoughts to keeping an eye on the two Heads, Ron concentrated on a young blonde girl he found far easier to manage a relationship with than Lavender Brown and found a few hours of peaceful slumber, dreaming about butterbeer caps and radishes.

The remainder of break found things returning a bit more towards normal. Draco and Hermione were forever passing the hours either in their room, the library or Dumbledore's mysterious storage rooms. A couple of weeks into the next term their common room was mostly buried under piles of books, maps and various bits of parchment. However, Ron did notice they still had a bit of time to pull one another into the random broom closet. But in his opinion they were less public and therefore far less annoying than Ginny and Harry.

He honestly didn't understand the need to be so grabby in public with his sister. Luna liked holding hands which was just… more polite for other company. And sure enough, no one ever did find them when they disappeared behind the statue of Tam Lin in the gardens for a few stolen moments when they could afford them.

The next two months were anything but eventful for him and his friends. A pair of them were researching heaven-knows-what. Harry found time to completely recruit all the students he had planned, while struggling through classes and meetings of the DA. Ginny had overhead she wouldn't be included in the Order of the Phoenix by the end of the school year and hadn't spoken much with any of them in the last few weeks, even if she still spent at least one night in ten on the couch of the common room with Harry.

On top of everything, Ron was struggling to keep up in Charms. It had been nearly two weeks since he had got a spell right in class and the continuous stream of parchment he was turning out left his wand hand numb, which didn't exactly help with each following class. It was bloody inconvenient without Hermione helping him and he couldn't bear to ask Harry, who was making all the best strides in their Transfiguration projects with only a bit of help from him. Luna managed to teach him a trick with his elbow to make his Protean Charm almost full proof. But he never in a thousand years would have guessed who would offer to tutor him in Charms one Monday night while out on patrol.

"What do you mean tutor?!"

Sighing a bit at the question, Lavender paused before starting down the main corridor to refasten her blonde hair in its ponytail and explained, "What? I'm good at Charms and everyone knows you're falling behind."

"But…" Ron began while shaking his head, "you hate me."

Snorting, she replied, "I don't hate you, Ronni-Ronald. But… well if you'd help me, I'd help you."

"What do you want?" he asked, groaning in expectation.

"Well… I like this boy, but… I can't do any of the normal things to get his attention… or they aren't working at least. He's been seeing someone else. But the girl broke it off. She was one of the ones who left school after Dumbledore died."

"Luna didn't leave school," Ron interjected in all seriousness. His confused expression faded to annoyance when she couldn't stop laughing at him.

"Not you, ya' berk," she managed to force out between giggles. Ron was forced to stand there huffing for nearly a minute while she got the laughter out of her system. Just before he marched off to finish the patrol by himself, Lavender quieted down and continued, "And don't worry, it isn't Harry or his brother. Everyone knows they're both taken by now."

"Damn right, Harry's taken. My sist… wait I thought only I figured out about the Ferret and—"

"Hermione? Honestly, _everyone_ knows they spend every waking hour together. I mean Parvati divined it ages ago back when he was just Malfoy and…" she paused and spoke in more hushed tones as if letting him in on a very secret bit of information, "I saw them walking that smushed-faced cat of hers down by the lake yesterday. They were holding hands…very cozy."

Scratching his head, Ron questioned, "So if it isn't me or Harry or Draco… what am I supposed to do?"

Lavender side-stepped the question and rambled, "Well, I'll help you with Charms. We can meet Sunday and Wednesday evenings and I can help you with your wand handling."

"My wand—"

"Everyone's always thought you weren't fluid enough. Hmm. I suppose that's why we never worked out… a bit like kissing a rock."

Grimacing, he shot back, "We broke up because you were a silly little thing that wouldn't catch on that Hermione and I were best friends. And rocks aren't all bad you know… they're strong and good for building things and—"

"Reliable," she finished. "So will you help?"

"Who is it?"

Grinning madly, Lavender leaned closer and whispered in his ear.

"NEVILLE?!"

Slapping him more than a little roughly on the cheek, Lavender probably left a mark, but hushed him up. Seeing his dumbfounded expression, she explained, "He's a lot smarter at some things than he gets credit for and we all know he was some big hero at the Department of Mysteries. Is it true he took on a half-dozen Death Eaters by himself?"

"Cor, no, I was there too. It's true, he and Harry were the only ones to last until the Order saved us, but is that why? I mean, there are others going to be in the Order."

Blushing slightly, she explained, "Well he grew up in all the right places if you want to know."

"I can't know that!" he groaned in response, covering his ears.

Pulling his hands down, Lavender led the way back towards the moving stairs and went on, "Well, he isn't nearly as needy as you."

"Hey! But even if he isn't needy, you're this popular, blond-y gossip girl and Neville… isn't."

"Well, I don't want to date me. I want to date him. If… you know if he would go out with someone like m… like that kind of girl. A lot of people think too little of him, but he was always good at Charms and Herbology. And he's sweeter than any four other people put all together. He doesn't still take it, but Professor Trelawney said his dream journal was one of the most interesting she'd ever seen. He's nice… I always liked that about you. I…I would have asked him to the dance, but he was seeing that McDonald girl. Ever since they broke up, I've tried to be… to show I was interested, but Neville is too…"

"Thick?"

"Innocent, Ronald! He doesn't think like-like-like nasty boys like you do. He's far better than that and if… if you ruin this for me I'll—"

"Yeah, yeah, I got the idea," Ron muttered. "You really like the poor bugger. Why is it me always gets dragged into these messes. Harry gets battles to the death with immortal dark wizards out to destroy the world, but I have all the hard stuff. I mean I've had a good number of dates, but—"

"Snogging in the alcove around the corner from the Transfiguration classroom doesn't count as a date Ronald," she huffed. "So will you… help? Just find out if he likes me at all or not. Make sure he knows… well, that I'm not as simple-minded as some of your friends think I am."

"No one thinks—"

"Hermione and Malf—sorry, Harry's brother," she offered. "I could tell neither of them are keen on me joining the Order."

"Well, they just don't know you. Besides, everyone comes up as simple-minded next to those two. Let them have their little secrets. They've already got something planned to talk to Harry and I about Friday, but they like to keep things close to their chests. It's just the way they are."

When they finished the journey to the Fat Lady's empty picture frame, Lavender took a seat on the steps and tapped her wand nervously on the railing. Ron took a seat next to her, careful to maintain a respectable distance.

"Do you think I belong?" she asked, while looking downcast. "I know it was sort of a roundabout way… I mean Harry asked me like a side note to asking Parvati and Padma."

After glancing quickly to confirm the Fat Lady still was off somewhere Ron replied, "I mean, you'll… I mean none of you will be as involved as the four of us… at least until school's done. But you're a founding member of the DA and a prefect. And you said yes, volunteered to face Death Eaters and help save the world and all. Not everyone would even get involved with this, offered the chance to or not. You deserve it, I suppose. It isn't like we decided to have you over for being my ex-girlfriend."

"Yeah, I never thought that," she added with a sly smirk. "Thanks, Ron."

"It's what I do," he replied while stretching his legs down over several steps and folding his hands behind his head. Lavender managed a small laugh before the Fat Lady returned.

"Hello, young ones," she barked while spilling her drink and teetering back and forth in her frame.

"Poor lass really must stop spending all her evenings with Luca Gaurico's portrait over in Ravenclaw Tower," Lavender muttered. "They like to swing up to visit the Forsworn Knight in Professor Trelawney's quarters. Get him drunk and prophesizing."

"Lucky paintings," Ron answered. "Purple Pygmy Puff."

With an unsteady bow, the Fat Lady swung her portrait aside and they entered the dormitory.

Wishing to be done with it as soon as possible and annoyed by Lavender and Parvati giggling at him from their chairs far away from the fireplace, Ron trudged up to his room shortly after Neville retired well before ten o'clock.

A short while later, Neville came slowly out of the lavatory, doing up the top two buttons of his pajamas. He came to a quick halt to find Ron in front of him, staring him down. Before he could stutter out a question, Ron asked, "What do you think of Lavender?"

"Huh? I mean I suppose… wait… why are you… do you…are you leaving Luna?! Ron, she adores you it'd—"

"What? Wh—no. I don't like… well I don't hate, but… No! Dang it, Neville. I meant do you like Lavender? _You_."

Swallowing a lump as Trevor bounded out of the bathroom past them with only a cursory glance towards his owner, Neville replied, "Me? W-what do you mean? Am I supposed to… choose who to be friends with between the two of you?"

"No, what do you… Alright, this isn't going as straightforward as I planned. Natalie and you broke up, yes or no."

"Yes."

"Grand. Well not… see I heard… that is I think Lavender is sweet on you."

"Sweet? Why would she like me?"

"Mate, you aren't the first to ask that 'bout yourself in regards to that girl. But if you like the possessive, smothering type—"

"Maybe I like her," Neville whispered, then slapped his hand over his own mouth for the shock of letting the words out. "She's nice to me and I actually haven't had as much fun working with someone as I did the last few weeks. Oh no, what—"

Poking him in the chest roughly a few times, Ron exclaimed, "Oh no, you don't. We've all got more important problems. I know you two are partners in Herbology tomorrow. All of Gryffindor's seen the flirting you two dance around. If you aren't a couple by the end of class tomorrow there's no bloody hope for you, mate. For heav—Hermione and Draco are together. Neville, ANYTHING can work if you want it to. Just go for it."

"Right, I can… go for it. But I've never gone out with anyone I wasn't mostly friends with to start."

"Neville, I promise if you want to help me and the Order, then stop me from dealing with this and failing Charms. Ask her out, show her that little garden Sprout let you plant out behind the greenhouses."

"Charms? Wait, how do you know about my garden?"

"First off, never mind that, Lavender is tutoring me in Charms and she can't very well concentrate of that being all in love with you and unrequited! And the other thing, well… behind the greenhouses is Luna's second favorite place on the grounds so I caught a sight of you working back there," Ron finished with a smile. Heading back downstairs, Ron was more than a little impressed on how he covered the slip about Charms.

He was turning into a right good matchmaker. First, he chased off every other suitor until Ginny found someone even partly acceptable. Then his relationship with Lavender finally seemed to entrench Hermione as his friend, freeing her up for the Ferret. And now after finding a beautiful lass for his own, he pushed another fine couple together. After all, Neville hadn't blushed that much since second year.

Sure enough by the end of Herbology, he saw his two fellow Gryffindors marching back to the castle hand-in-hand and smiled smugly to himself. Hermione didn't even notice Lavender holding herself tightly to Neville's side and commented that Ron's smile was unnatural and creepy. Ron grumbled and muttered about how creepy her and the ferret were. Of course, he mentioned that just loud enough to frazzle her.

The rather enjoyable week, his first of that type in a good while, sped by. Bill told him he was one of the best defense students of his year and fully expected an Exceeds Expectation NEWT out of his youngest brother. Even Hermione was impressed when he perfectly performed all three charms on Friday. His tutor was unavailable for feedback, congratulating Neville on a spectacular Mundus charm. And the Wednesday evening Luna explained the stories of the constellations to him was time well spent. But when the week's classes finally did end, he and Harry trudged up to Hermione and Draco's rooms for an afternoon meeting.

It was only a moment after knocking on the painting of the friar that Hermione swung the door open and gestured for them to enter. Besides a brief nod there wasn't even a greeting from her, which started Ron's stomach tying itself in nervous knots over what was to come.

The room was a bit neater than he had witnessed the morning he caught them asleep on the couch. There were still five-foot high piles of ancient-looking texts pushed back against the walls even blocking their entrance to the small kitchen. Ignoring the rumbles of his stomach, Ron sat next to Harry on the couch. Hermione and Draco stood on the other side in front of the fireplace, looking down at them like a pair of teachers.

"So, I suppose I'll start with the biggest news first," Hermione began while clutching a thin book to her chest. "Professor Dumbledore kept journals and we've been reading through as many as we can. His library is… I'm not even sure how big it is. No matter how many we bring here, every space on every shelf is always full. In one of the latest journals, it mentioned his latest suspicion. Less than six months ago, a book was stolen from the ministry. They covered it up to save face, but it has ties to a founder and was acquired from a dig in Romania just three years after Voldemort's last defeat. Dumbledore just found out about it when he uncovered Per—when he found a new source of information."

"So you think it's the unknown Horcrux," Harry whispered.

Nodding, she continued, "The dates match up. It was actually a design book. It belonged to Rowena Ravenclaw and contained all her plans for building Hogwarts, including the original work on the moving staircase."

"Well done, Hermione," Ron congratulated with a steady grin. "Do you know where it is?"

The grins faded when she explained, "Not a clue, unfortunately. And we haven't come up with anything new in months, but…"

"We found a bit of confirmation," Draco explained and held out a thick orange book to Ron. Opening it slowly, his eyes spread wide at the inscription on the inside; Property of Percy Weasley.

"It's his journal," Draco continued. "It explains the how and why of his work for the Death Eaters. We thought…"

Hermione picked up the thought and finished, "We thought you should have it Ron. It might… help explain things and if you wanted you could show it to the rest of the family someday."

Running his hand lightly across his brother's quick and pointed script, Ron tonelessly joked, "Don't you all need it for your library here?"

Hermione put on a brave smile and explained, "We've taken all the notes we need. It should go to you. He doesn't come off too… you should just read it."

Snapping the book shut, Ron simply stared at it angrily. He would have destroyed the book with all the hatred he wanted to destroy Percy if he didn't think the others in the room would have stopped him. Instead, he had to force a memory out of his head.

_Ron was only six at the time. A rambunctious five-year-old sister had taken to biting him whenever he annoyed her (a trick taught to her by the twins erased the marks so he couldn't tell on her), so he spent that summer outside most days climbing the trees further down the lane. The day he went out too far on a weak branch and fell, his mother had taken Charlie and Bill to shop for books for the upcoming semester. It was Percy, nine at the time, who found him. Percy who carried him back home. Percy who read him and Ginny a story to take their minds off it… _Winnifred and the Amazing Snorkack

By the time he realized what he was doing, damp streaks had made their way down his cheeks. Brushing them clean, he looked up and had to turn away from Hermione's own wet eyes. It was Draco, who coughed to gather the attention and explained, "Another matter, Dumbledore made several references about fifteen years ago to another person attempting to gain immortality. He was never associated with Voldemort directly that the headmaster knew of, but could have been a useful source of information. Dumbledore didn't pursue him because he and the rest of the world thought him dead."

"But he isn't," Harry concluded.

"No, I know because I met him with Lucius when I was nine. A bit by chance, but I think we should speak to him. I want to go tomorrow."

"Who is it?" Ron asked. "Grindelwald?"

"Thank heavens, no," Hermione answered in a huff. "Dumbledore did him in well and good. He was a brutal monster, but his concerns were more with conquering people and territory than immortality."

"For this man it was a true obsession," Draco added. "Not that he hasn't sought power in his time. His name was Grigori Yefimovich Rasputin."

"He was a wizard?" Harry asked. "Wasn't he some Russian advisor or something?"

Draco took the opportunity to sit in one of the chairs nearby before beginning his story. Hermione did the same, but both her friends picked up on how put off she was by the conversation.

"He was a muggle-born wizard born in 1769, not 1869 like the muggles think, and graduated from Durmstrang. In the mid-nineteenth century he organized a coup de tat that toppled the Russian ministry. Or at least most people suspect he did. Not exactly much proof left in the ruins of a revolution. But it destabilized the Russian muggle world as well. He pretty much abandoned the wizarding world after this. Became known to the muggles as the Mad Monk and eventually gained the favor of last Russian emperor, Tsar Nicholas II, when he used some clever healing and protective charms on Nicholas' only son, the Tsarevich Alexei."

"And he betrayed them to their downfall," Hermione finished. "The entire royal family, Nicholas, the Empress Alexandra, Alexei and his four sisters were killed and his last known acts spurred a revolution that has had effects lasting to this day. He's noted by the wizarding world as an unrepentant murderer and the developer of some of the Death Eaters most popular curses of torture. He even made one that's said to rival the Cruciatus curse."

"Yes, he's a pip," Draco added with a tight smirk. "But the point is he's not in Voldemort's camp even if he is a practitioner of the dark arts. And there's evidence he has at least one Horcrux. He could provide more information than any other living source about them."

"What evidence?" Ron asked, glancing from him to Hermione and back.

"When the muggles thought they killed him, it was after he was stabbed, disemboweled, served cyanide, shot… at least four times, beaten to death with clubs and drowned."

"That'd do it."

"Then they dug him up and burned him to ashes."

"Blimey."

"Well said, Weasley. If nothing else, have to admire the thoroughness of those muggles. But despite it all he lives. I've met him."

After a moment, Harry asked, "Are you sure it was—"

"Yes. Leaves quite the impression on a small child. He has a house outside of St. Petersburg. We'll take the floo in McGonagall's office to a shop I remember. It's a few miles away from his home."

Before he could ask if they would agree to join him, Ron and Harry were already nodding their consent. They both found it a bit enjoyable that it hadn't fallen to them to convince Hermione to let them make some foolish adventure. Instead she could be upset with someone else for a change. Ron spoke up, "But we're not leaving until after nine. I'm not missing anymore meals I can avoid."

"Speaking of travel," Hermione began while pushing back a smile, "we've been trying to discover what Dumbledore did to the fireplaces in his office and Grimmauld Place to make them operational, but untraceable. No such luck yet."

"We're working through his library," Draco explained gesturing widely at the texts surrounding them on every side. "Bit of a struggle with classes and everything else. Granger just insists we keep attending—"

"Don't start on me about that again," Hermione scoffed. "We have to pass our NEWTS or we'll be a disgrace to the positions of Head Girl and Boy. And who will ever offer us a job if we aren't fully educated. Honestly, Potter!"

"Well," Harry added while forcing down a humorous smile, "we've finished recruiting and have quite the beginnings of a new Order of the Phoenix. Professor McGonagall agreed to let Moody come in and take over as instructor for an advanced DA club to meet on Saturdays. Basically, it'll be an Order training class. Is Rasputin going to be the type of trouble that we should bring more help?"

Hermione opened her mouth, but Draco cut in first, "Most likely not. He's a dark wizard, but not our enemy today and being a muggle-born himself has no wish for Voldemort's war to spread outside of Europe. It isn't worth the risk of telling anyone else about Horcruxes."

"I suppose we should wait until at least the end of school to let anyone else know," Ron agreed. "Wait, are we going somewhere cold again?"

Smiling widely for the first time since Rasputin was mentioned, Hermione assured him, "It won't be as bad. It is cold, but 2,300 kilometers south of our last trip. But bring a warm winter coat and the appropriate clothes."

"Yes ma'am," Ron snapped off with a mocking salute.

Hermione chuckled a bit before leaning back and mentioning, "We do need to be careful… with Rasputin I mean. He's every bit as dangerous as you can imagine."

Harry nodded and tried to seem confident in the decision. Ron simply glanced at the clock and grumbled a bit. It was after all, nearly suppertime regardless of conversations involving dark wizards.

After the dinner that evening, Ron decided to sit up once more in the Astronomy Tower with Luna before running off on another adventure. In his opinion, this was a damnable busy year. He tried to pay attention to her stories, but his attention was often drawn back to the book just sticking out the top of his bag.

"So why get rid of the stars?"

Luna huffed mightily and gave him a quick peck on the head, "Well, vampires like Scrimgeor hate the light and don't need it to see and if no one else can see what's going on then they have the advantage. We need to see, Ron."

Thinking about it he decided it made sense except for the vampire part, Ron gave a brief nod. Even if she thought each had an unusual story at least she could tell him the name of every star and constellation he could point at.

After several minutes, Luna asked, "You're quiet before you leave."

After a moment's thought, Ron grinned at how she could ask and answer three questions and figure out plans he hadn't even mentioned.

"Just going for a day… I hope. Hermione's nervous and Harry doesn't know anymore than me, but they both trust Draco… so I might not be back for dinner, but I'll sit with you for Sunday breakfast, okay?"

"Lovely," Luna remarked quietly. Without watching, she could obviously tell what Ron was distracted with and mentioned, "You could read me a story."

Huffing dramatically, Ron sat up next to her and silently mulled over the idea. His companion remained silent while he weighed his anger against his curiosity. Eventually, he pulled the book out and twirled it in his hands for another minute. Deciding that Hermione wouldn't have given him something just to hurt him, Ron flipped the book open and saw several bookmarked pages; turning to the first he began reading quietly. Glancing to the previous entry it appeared to be the first written in several months.

_August 4_

_It's almost time for the wedding. I've been nearly out the door a half-dozen times, but I know there's no way. I'm no good for it anymore, no good for them. All the times I've wished I could have had their support and now I just feel this is about the last of the chances. I ended it with Penelope yesterday. _

_It's best if I just stop it all and hollow myself out before they do._

_I used to be something. Bill was in Egypt and Charlie ran off to his beloved dragons in Romania. And my life seemed to be moving along so well. I had finished off a wonderful year as Head Boy and was seriously seeing a beautiful girl that just loved me and I was working with Dad at the Ministry everyday. I was going to go farther than he ever did and faster; the pride of the family. Going into it all, looking back, I wish somebody could told me there were some people who you didn't want the attention of._

_The book wasn't anything special. It isn't more valuable than anything else under the Ministry's care and far less important strategically than so many other things. But the rat said _He_ had owned it for a few months years and years ago. I suppose all of us have things we grow attached to. I heard rumors they've been gathering lots of things that used to matter to _Him. _So, I know I'm not the only one they use. I think there are others in the Ministry even. And the only person I could feel comfortable going to is one that I can't._

_I do these things, these awful things for them and I know the end. I'll get caught and then it's the trial and I'll end up where people like me end up. But the first time, I didn't even know what I was doing or who for and after that it was too late. No way to get help without admitting culpability on my own. And they would destroy my life. My family. I wish the Minister could help. If Harry stopped _Him_, that's the only way out for me. So it's up to him and Ron and Hermione to see the light. They're just such young children and I know they'll see that the Ministry can show them the way. It might not have worked for me, but it can help them. I won't let them trip up like I did. I'll make things work out like the rules say. Like things are supposed to. That's what I do best._

Ron honestly didn't even notice his cheeks were wet until Luna wiped them clean. He was remembering something Draco had told him about Death Eaters bribing and torturing and doing anything to get their way. It never occurred to him this was the case with Percy. The idea that he was one of them and that he was a bad guy, was accepted without anymore thought put to it. In the months that he had tried to move on from his mother, as much as that consumed so much of his time and thoughts, Percy didn't. Ron couldn't even look at Ginny some days without getting flashes of their mother's smile, but nothing reminded him of Percy. He didn't spare a single thought to his big brother.

"I don't want to read anymore," Ron forced out. "But…"

Luna stood up and pulled him by the hair gently until he was looking at her face. Leaning close, she whispered, "We'll read another on Sunday."

Ron nodded and slapped his knees before standing up. Without a word, he led her down the stairs and across the length of the castle. It went without saying that after these fairly frequent visits to the Astronomy Tower (where it turns out Ron and Luna don't do the things he thought students did up there), Ron would always walk her back to Ravenclaw Tower.

After the first few weeks in her consistent company, he realized Luna Lovegood was as brave as any Gryffindor. She didn't mind that just about everyone in her house, and all the others for that matter, called her vile names behind her back or taking her things. He may have wanted to hunt them down and hex the buggers within an inch of their lives, but she couldn't hold a grudge over it. And her troubles never stopped her from being there for him.

He hated going away and leaving her on her own. At least she had Ginny with her, not that she hadn't made it three years almost entirely on her own. But she was the one good thing Ron wanted to protect from this world. It would be better when this mess was over, but until then they had silly talks and brief kisses and walks through a silent castle under a borrowed Invisibility cloak.

After breakfast the next morning, Ron marched up to McGonagall's office, which he knew Harry still thought of as Dumbledore's, with the others. Hermione had insisted they all dress in muggle clothing since they would have to walk through the streets of St. Petersburg. They had even gotten a decently made winter hat from Ginny that obscured Harry's forehead while in the wizarding community. A few words of caution from both McGonagall and Moody and a quick floo ride popped them out in one of the most expensive robe shops any of them besides Draco had ever seen.

Without even pausing to say hello to the staff, Draco led them to the front door and looking out through the large windows Ron groaned at the steady drift of snow flying almost sideways while a few witches and wizards were marching past with their thick robes pulled tightly about them.

"We've got a bit of a walk," Draco remarked and led the way out the front door and as always Hermione was barely a step behind him as usual. Harry took the same moment he did and shared a knowing look towards Ron, who was wrapping a scarf his Mum made two Christmas's past as tightly around his face as possible.

After making their way past the shops in what seemed to be this city's version of Diagon Alley, Draco led them through a brick wall and out onto the city streets. It took them nearly an hour to get outside of the populated muggle areas and another hour walking through an uninhabited hilly area. By the time they came upon the forest that was apparently their destination each had a red face and nearly frozen toes. A bit further along, they departed from the main path and through an unnaturally thick realm of trees. The air here was heavier and more guarded and it was no longer just the cold that had them all taking deep breaths. It was only a minute after walking along this road when Harry came to a sudden stop.

Closest to him, Ron noticed him falter a couple steps and turned, asking, "Harry, what's on, mate?"

Draco and Hermione then turned with a start to see Harry shake a confused expression off on his face and explain, "I don't know. I just felt… something."

Hermione shared a brief look with Draco and said, "Some of Dumbledore's journals mention instinctually powerful wizards who can sense magic to different degrees. We think he was a rather advanced one."

"He mentioned it to me just before… that I might just know things without a reason."

"Well you started by leading us to the Horcrux on the Dark Isle," Draco added. "I'd say you were becoming a bit more advanced at it. Noticing more commonplace spells. Since we're still moving forward past the spell, it must have just been a detection ward. He'll know we're coming."

"Yes, he will," a disembodied voice echoed all around them. Hermione and Harry immediately drew their wands and seeing this Ron pulled his a moment later.

Shaking his head, Draco mocked, "No manners at all."

"I have never found you English to be possessing much in terms of elegance," the voice sounded out again. At Harry's nod, the three of them lowered their wands only slightly.

Draco's smirk faded and he tried not shake when he felt the tip of wood at the back of his neck. The others bolted their wands back to face the revealed wizard.

Rasputin stood openly off to Draco's left, seemingly unconcerned about how exposed he was to the other wands. The tall man towered over even Ron and while his slicked back and greasy hair left his calm black eyes in plain sight, it contrasted with the mangy beard that dangled before him enough to just wisp along the ground. He didn't seem a man of 50, let alone more than 200 and there was an air of grace about his movements, his very breathing that separated him from the nervous children around him. They all later agreed on one thing in regards to the Mad Monk; that the world chilled a bit around him.

He casually flipped his attention to the other three and then turned towards Draco, who still remained utterly still facing away from him. Without a sound he disappeared and came into being in front of Draco with his back to the others. Just before Harry cast a disarming spell, the wand was pocketed and Rasputin leaned close and inquired, "Where have I smelt this one's magic before."

"Aren't you supposed to make some sound with apparation?" Draco asked, pointedly ignoring the wizard's question.

A hollow laugh burst from the tall Russian and the other wands lowered a small bit once again.

"You're in my forest, young man. For some two hundred years I have spun every bit of magic to my advantage here. Now are you done being an impudent child?"

"Going on ten years ago, you met me with a man who needed some rather illegal potion ingredients. You were about to turn us away when you called me, or my scent that is 'remarkable' and given who you were I took it as a significant compliment."

"Not too many little boys venture into this forest," he remarked and glared into Draco's eyes before continuing. "Ah, you're the not-a-Malfoy boy. There was an air of dark magic around you before. I heard the stories of your true identity returning to you. Now your pieces fit more soundly, less confusing… excellent. So that would make your friend there—"

"Harry Potter," the raven-haired man introduced himself. "We need to talk to you about something. We'd like you to answer some questions."

"Well, let us retire then," Rasputin replied with a smile and an instant later the four were seated around a wooden table in what appeared to be a run down shack in the woods. Four heads snapped around wildly for a moment catching on to the new surroundings. Rasputin simply waved his hand and four large glasses of a rather pungent brown liquid appeared before them.

"Let us speak of young Riddle and those that he has weaved for you."

"Those?" Ron asked, still glancing around him and surprised to be in such a strange place without floo, portkey or the feeling of apparation.

"His juvenile riddles," Rasputin remarked, obviously annoyed given the rushed tone he used, and took a swig of the mystery brew, allowing large splotches to fall into his beard while doing so. "I shall not answer the questions of those so young, but… I will tell what tales I can."

"Why?" Hermione asked, unwilling or unable to hide her distrusting tone. "Why are you diving right in to help us? And why should we believe what you say?"

Rasputin's eyes both seemed to flash completely black for an instant, before he took another drink and explained, "One who asks questions that have already been rejected of answers."

"Well, she won't stop," Ron interrupted. "So maybe you ought to start by saying why you—"

"He was a terrible and foolish wizard," Rasputin began with a tight smile. "No love for we muggle-borns with that half-blood. I met him three times. Once we were rivals and I took an ancient prize and left him a scrap of it and a clever hiding place. Once he sought me out here in my forest and thought himself mighty indeed. No words he spoke then, but he did cry out and never again did he venture to Mother Russia. The final time… the final time was the night he met you."

Harry didn't blink from the older man's stare. He could sense Ron about to speak again, but silently nodded and encouraged the information to continue.

"Quiet thoughts, young Potter. Your friends are rather loud. Voldemort may think in whispers, but it is still there. He is not so very grand as he thinks himself. Only the very young and stupid desire power over life. I once did, but it is that power over death that so few understand. I have my one bond to this earthly world that ties me to my forest and my city. And no silly Death Eaters or Kirgali or Knights of Walpurgis venture into my domain. Riddle loved his honours and his place at the head of it all. His selfish desire of Hogwarts is both his ending and not his ends. He had to have his six and one soul with his snake and book and precious things and hated thing."

Another long drink paused the story and a silent, mad smile silently flashed at the students. Harry bit his tongue and waited for him to start again. If Draco was doing the same, he gave no outward sign of it. Ron mulled over and tried to make sense of what was already said, but his slight confusions were answered when a frustrated Hermione demanded, "If you are going to help us, then do it. No more riddles about Riddle. Speak plainly, can you tell us what Horcruxes he has or where he would hide them?"

"Secrets are the way of things with we who are more comforted by the dark. We learn silently of others and keep our own in mystery. But you girl, even more than the others, are a finder of secrets. Book and scrolls and forgotten tongues are where you and your love would look. This is not a secret you will find to end Riddle's games. This sixth secret. The secret-knowers are few and far between. Seers are little more than muggles, unless one of the five true ones. Five in all of time and none alive now to answer your fortunes. So gone are the Djinn on to other worlds with wiser masters centuries past. Should he tell you his secrets himself? No, the answer you want… the last answer is in the mists. But enough of my games. Riddle will fall or live, I care not. If he was unwise with the trails and markings he left and if his secrets fail there is no other he can blame. I will offer you clue or truth or lie. One I keep for my own secrets. Which two will you have?"

Hermione opened her mouth, but snapped it shut again. Like the other two boys were already doing, she faced Harry and waited for his choice. Resisting the urge to look to his friends, Harry instead turned his gaze down. Long minutes past in silence before he responded, "I'll take the clue and the truth."

"The lie you know will remain unquestioned and may cost you everything you desire. Your truth, young Potter, is that once a man left a mountain and asked me of creating a Horcrux of a human person, after the snake his thoughts moved thus. I replied only that a great fool would bind himself to that which must fade as life must. It is the only advice of mine the child ever took. The clue is that your brother alone among you has the bond to find a hiding place for his moving Horcrux, but places and people and times are important in the old magic. The kind that is older than good and evil and bright and dark take great care in the giving of secrets to certain people in certain places at certain times. When on the emerald of his second name with a red and brown scarred by the same demon, Draco Potter will find you an answer and he will weep at the messenger. Look for your answers at midsummer should you live to see it. Quite a tale it could be if you three survive the Deathly Hallows. We can only hope you are not one of those fool to release all hold on today and tomorrow for the faded words of yesterday. I do wish the best of luck that your land can someday know the peace of mine. Great magic can be brewed in the balances that never rise about in the conflicts. The long-lived appreciate the time of balance when great things can be made to happen."

"Anything else you can say to help… or confuse us?" Ron asked only slightly jokingly. Rasputin took it as a clever bit of humor and openly laughed with a full smile and slammed his mug against the table several times.

"Visit the Winter Palace before you leave my city," Rasputin suggested. "St. Petersburg in winter is a muggle type of magic. Das vidanya."

And without another moment's warning, the four of them found themselves sitting in the wet snow on a street in the muggle section of the city. Ron picked himself up first and helped Hermione to her feet before mumbling about the "crazy Russian" and his games. But even without directions they still found themselves a little while later staring across the river at the Winter Palace in the twilight. Ron was never one for finding the inherent beauty in a building of stone or a setting, but even he held his breath slightly. In a final moment as a fog seemed to clear from his eyes, he thought of Luna and his mother and warm pies on spring mornings. Harry scratched lightly at his scar before adjusting his hat and imagined briefly dancing with Ginny at a grand ball, but his imagination couldn't decide if it was his future or a fantasy of the distant past. Hermione simply leaned back into Draco and was entranced by a connection they shared in the present and to the history of the city. And Draco himself felt with a strong desire to spend all his days uncovering the world's mysteries so long as he could do it with the girl in his arms.

"Crazy alright, Weasley," Draco agreed before they set off in a taxi to the alleyway that would take them to the wizarding area of the city.

* * *

_Another update rolls around. I still do not own Harry Potter and I want to remind that all characters in this story are fictional and similarities to living or dead people are purely coincidental. Anyways, I wanted to thank whichever reader nominated this story at Dangerous Liasons. I've always been a big fan of the site and the double nomination was a real treat. A note about this chapter, there are a couple references throughout to the comic Fables (brief mentions of the Forsworn Knight and Tam Lin). Also, I hope you enjoyed breaking from the more "main" characters to see a bit more from Ron's perspective and spend some time enjoying other characters (Neville, Lavender). I certainly have a great deal of fun writing for Ron which is a big step for me, who wasn't a fan of the character when I started this story. I wanted to thank all my reviewers once more and remind you how much I enjoy reading what you all are thinking of this endeavor. For the next chapter we are turning up the clock again and pushing through the rest of the semester. Big things ahead._


	21. Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests

**CHAPTER TWENTY: NASTILY EXHAUSTING WIZARDING TESTS**

By the time they returned to Hogwarts, Harry and the others resolved to think about the clues they received from Rasputin overnight and discuss it the following afternoon. They did in fact return in time for supper thanks to their hosts lack of interest in small talk. It had been a quiet night in Hogwarts with almost none of the professors present for supper. Hermione noticed it first when she wanted to go right up to her Ancient Runes professor, Bathsheba Babbling, and ask her about a translation that was due next week that had been giving both Draco and herself for a few days now. She was not the only member of the staff table absent that evening and the following day, in fact.

McGonagall, after welcoming them back in her office, stayed for most of the dinner. Bill showed up long enough to fill up a pair of plates and take a few measured looks around the room before heading back out. Slughorn, Vector, Sprout, Flitwick and most of the others were not present at all and though Hagrid was there for the entire meal, it seemed he was more interested in keeping an eye on the students than the roast in front of him. The only two teachers that seemed unaffected by the hurried atmosphere were Firenze and Professor Trelawney. The non-teaching members of the staff were present and you wouldn't know anything was amiss by their relaxed expressions.

The following afternoon, the four of them decided to meet in the Head's common room. Ron arrived with Draco and Hermione, while Harry followed shortly after with Ginny in tow. To answer their questioning eyes, Harry explained, "I talked to her last night. I figured we should bring Ginny up to speed first. I wanted her to take over the DA if all this continues to the next school year."

Ginny's blush of pride only grew deeper when Hermione agreed, "She's an excellent choice. And it's really a good idea to plan a bit ahead."

Ron looked a bit disgruntled to have his sister present, but after an elbow to the shoulder from Draco nodded his consent as well.

"We'll tell people in steps," Harry explained. "I'll let Luna and Neville know in a couple of months. Remus and Moody right after that and the rest of the Order at our first meeting after graduation, assuming we haven't found the last of them by then."

"Well, we won't," Hermione remarked calmly.

Taking a seat on the couch next to Harry, Ron joked, "No reason to start with a bad attitude."

"Ron, I meant we won't because the clue to find one of the last two, the biggest one won't be revealed to us until midsummer, assuming that evil bugger was right."

"Not us Granger, _me_, and you aren't going," Draco said definitively. "Let's go over it again. The facts of it, who goes where and when?"

"There were three total and we know you go," Harry added. "The other two were…"

"Red and brown, marked by the same demon," Hermione quoted. "I think the demon he meant was Greyback, so the others would be Remus and Bill."

"The where and when, we have general ideas of, but nothing specific," Draco added.

"And I just love how it's still _all_ about the Ferret, the last one to the party," Ron grumbled. "You'd think some evil wizard would put me in a prediction or plan one of these days."

"Well, someone has to help Harry get ready to fight a war."

"He's right, mate," Harry agreed. "Draco and Hermione will be so involved in research, they'll train in DA with us, but the fight still needs to be planned."

"Moody will help us keep the search and the information from my spies as quiet as we can, but once we kill Nagini, Voldemort will know what we're doing."

"So we should save him for last… if we can that is," Hermione reminded them. "But if a good chance comes up, we may not be able to pass it up. And then we would need a plan of attack. How are we going to handle fighting them when they attack more Muggles or wizards and witches they think would support Harry. I mean we can't just pop around and charge them wherever we see them."

"That's where Draco's boys are going to come in handy," Harry remarked. They probably won't get us as much information as… as Snape would've, but they're the type of people who will be carrying out any attack."

Ron rubbed the top of his head briefly and asked, "And you want me to help with that?"

"No, Ron, I want you to be in charge of that," Harry replied, utterly serious despite Ron's uncertain expression.

"Expect we'd let you sit around and do nothing but beat Harry at chess all summer?" Draco teased. Ron's glare did nothing to dissuade the auburn-haired boy from adding, "Can you imagine if we left it in Harry's hands? No, we'll need the one full brain between you two for this one."

Harry tried to cut off the argument, "Draco—"

"Better than you, Ferret!" Ron shouted.

"Ron—"

"Mate, you'd only be so lucky. Remember, your partner there's only involved because I wasn't sleepy one night."

"Potter—" Hermione tried to break in.

"Like that took any sense. You were probably the evilest baby ever, acting superior and such. Never mind, Harry's stronger at Defense than you. He inspires people. You couldn't lead a nest of ferrets around the bend."

"Ronald—"

"Speaking of inspired comments… let's just leave the writing of our victory speech to Granger."

Standing from his spot in the middle of the couch, Harry blocked the view from Ron's flaming red face to Draco leaning back smugly in his emerald chair and shouted, "Enough, come off it you buggers!"

"We were talking," Ron answered quickly in a tone that indicated he didn't think anything wrong had taken place.

"Quietly," Draco added meekly.

Hermione fought off a giggle that Ginny couldn't and Harry sat down roughly. He was only slightly more infuriated when Draco and Ron shared a knowing nod as if angering him was the goal from the start.

"Let's get back on task," Hermione offered. "We can _talk quietly_ about overall strategy later. I think we should go over the information from Rasputin while it's fresh in our heads."

"Well your middle name is Patrick and he talked about being on the emerald of your second name," Harry said to his brother. "So, somewhere in Ireland and some place called the Deathly Hallows."

"Don't assume things, Harry," the brown-haired witch chastised lightly. "The Hallows were something to be survived so it could be some type of creature or a place or a challenge or some rite of passage. We checked our old notes and looked through the library for about ten hours, but I've never heard of it before."

"We can keep looking, but did Dumbledore ever mention it to you?" Draco asked.

Harry shook his head slowly and rubbed his eyes, "I can't believe this. We're stuck waiting to come across it in a book. It's still like the Philosopher's Stone back in first year."

"Well, we did just fine then if you recall!" Hermione retorted, a bit put-off on behalf of books and research in general being so scorned.

"Well, you could asked about it," Ginny suggested quietly. With all the others turned abruptly to face her, she swallowed a lump at how intimidating the four of them could be when they got on a role and explained, "I mean… you don't have to say anything about why you want to know about them. If Bill or Dad or anyone like that knew anything, they'd tell you."

Harry nodded and agreed, "I'll ask around."

Draco mentioned quietly, "It has to have something to do with getting secrets that aren't available for more common sources. He mentioned seers and Djinn as being futile, but…"

While Draco faded off softly, Hermione leaned forward and asked, "Potter?"

"Something Dumbledore once… he mentioned trying to find certain answers about the location of Horcruxes. He mentioned Djinn and seers and… damn it was something about bogs."

"Bogs?" Ron asked with a smirk. "Then you're definitely the one to send after it. Practically your area of expertise."

"What about the when?" Hermione asked to redirect them to the point of the meeting and avoid another spat. "He said midsummer, so… did he mean June 23rd?"

"Can't afford to chance it," Draco replied. He could have been talking about the solstice or anytime throughout July. We should let Bill and Remus know when we need them. We'll leave on the 12th after N.E.W.T.s and O.W.L.s sit and stay until we find something or the first few days of August."

"You can't miss graduation," Hermione nearly shouted. "It's the culmination of the last seven years of our lives. We're expected to make speeches and—"

"You'll do fine on your own, Granger. This is more important than school."

"More important than school?! Potter, just because you're afraid—"

"Afraid?!"

"—It's no reason to run out on me."

"Can we get back to the part where you think I'm afraid."

"I could stand to talk about it a bit," Ron mentioned.

"Come off it you three" Harry broke in. "Look, unless either of you want to put the Order up to a vote, than I'm in charge. Understood?"

Receiving forced nods from each of them, Harry continued, "Now I want Draco at the first meeting of the new Order. We'll have it the afternoon the day after we graduated and you can leave from there."

Grumbling and put off, Draco remained silent and decided it wasn't worth fighting both of them about. Hermione looked a bit pleased at the decision, but managed to keep most of her enjoyment over winning off of her face.

Deciding the silence was a bit heavy, Ron summarized, "So the answer to his clue is the three of you finding the location out somewhere in Ireland sometime over the summer. Great. I can see no flaws or holes in this idea. Nothing against your mate, Draco, but his clue is pretty bloody annoying."

Draco only nodded a bit and moved along, "But then there's the truth. That the Horcrux isn't a person."

"But we already know what they all are," Harry argued. "Not much of a truth."

Hermione had apparently been waiting for this moment. Grabbing a scroll from beside her chair, she knelt and spread it on the table. Pointing at the first of seven columns and moving along as she excitedly rambled, "We can't assume that Harry. This is too important. I agree with Dumbledore that Voldemort would have made seven. The number comes up too often with him and in dark magic in general. The first is obviously the bit that's left in his body. It has to be the last one if we want to stop him for once and all. According the prophesy, you'll destroy that in some final confrontation."

"Or die," Draco added to the substantial discomfort of everyone in the room. Ginny in particular pushed back her fear and waved her hand, motioning for Hermione to continue.

"W—We absolutely know from the fact that it nearly killed Dumbledore that the ring was one of them. We know the same about the cup because of what it… because of Draco being hurt. Given what you saw in Dumbledore's pensieve last year, if the cup was one, than the locket more than likely was as well. The book falls under the same category of 'probably' since he nearly came back to life from it."

"He was in there all right," Ginny stated in as definitive tone as she could. Rubbing her arms as if a chill had snuck into the room, she repeated, "That thing had his soul."

"The next two are possibilities," Hermione remarked. "There was never really any evidence of Nagini being a Horcrux besides Dumbledore's suspicions, but Rasputin mentioned the one 'moving' and we know they travel together. The design book we know he stole and it fits in the timeline. It was missing when he would have had it and it fits the theme of tying to a Founder of the school."

"But we have no clue where it could be," Draco added with a grimace.

"Regular bowl of sunshine you are," Ron shot back.

"You aren't sure about the design book, are you?" Ginny asked.

Hermione nodded and explained, "It's the only one Dumbledore didn't piece together before I picked up his research. I don't… I just can't be certain. I always… I used to worry over the summer about… I worried he created a Horcrux the night he died the first time."

"You thought Harry…" Draco guessed, but faded off for a minute. He watched her swipe a tear away at the very memory of Harry being so tied to Voldemort. "But he didn't. That was Rasputin's truth. And I know we can't be certain, but we can only go with the best information we have."

The awkward silence stretched throughout the room and each felt on far less sure footing than they had been the night beforehand. Even Ginny, who had been only guessing at things was overwhelmed by everything Harry had told her and how much they still weren't certain about. It was, predictably enough, Ron to break the tension by joking, "So, the only real worry for now is not failing all our N.E.W.T.s."

Most of the group chuckled lightly at the joke. Hermione however shot up until her back was straight as a razor with a terrified glint in her eye until Draco leaned forward to gently rub her hand. Turning to him, she smiled softly and the two shared a brief moment staring at the other. As soon as Draco remembered the others in the room, he took his hand away and looked deeply into the unlit fireplace earning a bit of light-hearted laughter from Ron and Harry.

"Come on," Harry joked. "We all know the only person crazy enough for one of you is the other."

The group stayed in the room until dinner working on various assignments for Monday classes until they broke up. The following day, the teachers' absence and strange moods the night before came into focus. March 2nd marked the first day of what was not-so-jokingly referred to by seventh year students as _Fifteen Weeks In Hell_. It was the push for N.E.W.T.s exams and every professor was determined to cram as much information as possible into their students. It was generally acknowledged in gossip that the entire teaching staff threw 25 galleons into a pool for whichever class garnered Hogwarts the most N.E.W.T.s and on top of that there was a grand 200 galleon pool split evenly from the four Heads of House.

Ron affectionately referred to these few months, "Hermione's Heaven."

The average week consisted of more than a dozen practical spells, several feet of parchment and potions so delicate they sent more than a few trips to the infirmary for class-related mishaps. Seventh year students tended to almost completely disappear into the library or the relative privacy of their bedrooms for study during almost all hours after classes were released. Ron was actually the only seventh year in Gryffindor that insisted on maintaining their normal dinner habits.

The heaviest load obviously fell on the two Head students and Ron more than occasionally insisted that he and Lavender take their rounds for them at least one night each week. Each was buried under the workload for seven classes, prefect meetings, patrols and several other duties Hermione didn't have the heart to delegate. The two often went into the forest with Hagrid hunting for potions ingredients. The grueling fast pace of Slughorn's classes were diminishing the school's stores to some of their lowest levels in more than a dozen years. Of course, they still toiled away on their secret projects with every "free" moment. Never mind their tutoring sessions with students from every other year at the school and even a few seventh years that weren't too shy about asking for help. Of course, Draco was rather picky, only helping Gabrielle and the Slytherins.

"The charm really is important to master," Hermione explained to Regan Malone, a first year Hufflepuff, one evening. "It's the most common unlocking charm you'll ever use and depending of the power of the caster can even counter some O.W.L. level locking charms."

"It's _Alohomora_, Granger," Draco joked from his spot next to the main fireplace. At a small makeshift table off towards the kitchen, Hermione case an unforgiving glare at the Head Boy. He smirked and returned to glancing over Sarah's potions paper.

The small blonde girl smiled fondly and fiddled with her wand until Draco looked up and said, "A very decent bit of research into the Swelling Solution, Miss Witchett. Our wonderful Professor Slughorn picked a fine extra credit topic. I fully expect you stay a year ahead of the rest of the class or you'll be no better than a Huffl—"

"Hey!" Sarah, Hermione and Regan all exclaimed at the same time.

"This is not the Hogwarts of my youth," he replied with a grin.

A bit of the mystery of how Draco and Hermione were spending their "free" time was shown to Harry and Ron one Saturday afternoon in early May. After Moody's latest DA advanced lesson, which had started off as going over protective charms and nonverbal deflecting fields, but always ended with him and Bill blasting away with every jinx and hex they could think of at the students. The older man had even taking to showing off the type of attack and defensive spells that weren't normally taught until the second year of Auror training.

"Just don't go bragging," Moody chastised loudly. "A Death Eater underestimating what you know might save a weaker wizard's life. So, not something you should be telling every Tom, Dick and Harry, 'bout."

"At least every Tom," Ron whispered to Harry. The two barely had a moment to smile over the jest before Moody yelled a hex neither recognized. As soon as it hit the ground, moss and grass grew around it and vines whipped out at them.

Harry still was bit flustered from the Frendos jinx that he had deflected and nearly sent crashing right through the walls of the Room of Requirement. After the meeting, while most of the members trudged back to their respective dorms, four students started off in another direction.

But Hermione insisted on picking up one of Dumbledore's books on repelling curses, so for the first time the four of them came to an unassuming and plain door on the fifth floor. Hermione simply swept her hand back and forth in front of the door and whispered something under her breath before the door swung open on its own.

"Learning some new locking charms?" Harry asked with a grin.

Hermione blushed a bit and replied, "Actually we did a bit more."

"The door will open for anyone, but only the right person with the correct password will let the room exist behind it," Draco added with a smirk of pure superiority.

Harry and Ron rolled their eyes, but froze in place when the walked into the room. The room was beyond enormous and redefined the idea of the storage closet. The ceiling was higher than a cathedral with light flickering down through the clear windows at the top. It was still a dark and musty room however. The shelves of book reached up towards the sky like young redwoods. Even Hagrid would need ladders to reach most of the collection. Not that he could fit between the narrow rows. The shelves were so tightly packed that no two people could walk side-by-side through them. It diffused the light so much that the room was mostly lost in shadows. Hermione led the way through the stacks, heading pretty much straight forward. A candle floated just over her head to light the way.

"It would take a lifetime to read all these," Harry remarked. "How did he find the time to read them all?"

Hermione's voice was a bit muffled as it carried back to him through the heavy air the room seemed to exude, "We all knew Dumbledore learned a great deal outside of a standard Hogwarts education. It seemed his family had amassed quite the private library over the centuries. And there's a good bit of Muggle, I think, in his lineage. This isn't just wizarding texts, but centuries of priceless muggle texts and writings. This room, which I think he must have moved from some abandoned ancestral home, fueled an independent study that made Dumbledore… well, it made him Dumbledore."

Harry tried to make out several titles, but many of the books were in languages he didn't even recognize, let alone understand. When the stacks finally ended, it was to a circular clearing that held a fireplace surrounded by a pair of large, comfortable-looking chairs.

"There was an amateur potions lab down that way," Draco mentioned while gesturing off to his right. "Although it seemed to be an area he had less interest in them."

Hermione was kneeling next to one of the chairs, looking through piles of books stacked on the floor. From what Harry could see they mostly looked like old Transfiguration and Charms textbooks from dozens of years ago.

"Found it!" she called out with a triumphant grin. Standing the others glanced at the book title, _Intuitive Defensive Magic_. "This will teach us how to defend against minor attacks to the back or by surprise. I looked through it the other day and I think we could master it in a few weeks. Certainly before the end of the year."

And while they worked on this and other things, the time moved quickly. Harry spent many afternoon and evenings in Bill's office trying to cram every bit of defensive magic the older wizard knew of until they were both straining to think of more things to cover. With three weeks remaining until N.E.W.T.s began, Ron was finally caught up in Charms. It was a fact that no one in the school appreciated more than Lavender, who was able to spend the extra few hours a week working on her Herbology paper and whispering sweet nothings to Neville in the corner of the common room. She often remarked how easily her fifth and final dream diary was coming along. Ron teased her more than once about her charming it pink and the flowers she had blooming around the edges of it. She then remarked that Neville had done that part for her.

But aside from a small incident in potions where Ron splattered most of the room with a Draught of Extended Hunger that left the seven remaining students in that class clamoring around the kitchens for almost the entirety of the next weekend, things weren't too eventful. Luckily, Madam Pomprey was stocked up on Weight Restorative that covered 52-hour periods. The only other mishap was Hermione falling asleep in the library the following Tuesday. By the time Draco went searching for her only a few hours before sunrise, she was broken down in the corner by the Arithmancy section crying.

Kneeling in front of the shaking mass, Draco pushed the hair from her face and asked, "What's the matter, Granger?"

"I… I…It-t-t.. I fell asleep," she forced out between sobs.

Sitting beside her, he pushed the rest of her disheveled hair behind her right ear and remarked calmly, "Aye, that tends to happen every 50 or so hours even to the best of us."

Leaning her head on his shoulder, Hermione smiled a bit and explained, "I know… it's just… I had one of my older nightmares. I failed my Latin class at primary school… in third year."

"You know you aren't six, right Otter?"

"Otter?" she questioned, her wet face popping up and looking at him quizzically.

"It's a cute nickname. It's your patronus." With a shrug of his shoulder, he added, "Who doesn't like the otter? They go well with ferrets."

"No they don't," Hermione laughed while wiping her face dry. "I'm not an otter."

"Well, you aren't a primary student anymore either. Or someone in danger of failing at anything, let alone classwork."

Hermione huffed and leaned back, "It's just an old nightmare that usually hits towards the end of the school year. And then… I woke up and thought I'd be caught out after hours and be the first head girl to get stripped of my badge and surely at least a detention. I… I can't believe I forgot about the hallway to our common room."

Draco stood and took both her hands gently and lifted her to her feet. Rubbing the calluses on her right hand from months of nearly constant writing, he tried to reassure her, "You don't have to be perfect for us to love you."

"Huh… wh-what are you talk…"

"Me, Harry and Ron and the Weaslette and all the others will love you if you're the best in your class or the last. I've never met them, but your parents probably feel the same way. Just so you know."

"I… I know that. I just… fret."

"Fret?"

"Well… maybe more than fret, or fret a lot. But I actually meant… you said love."

Hermione's incredibly bright smile shot back the part of Draco that wanted to scoff. Instead it died in his throat and came out a gurgle. Her smile faltered for an instant, so he replied in a whimsical tone, "Well, I'm no Bulgarian Quidditch star."

"No, you aren't Bulgarian," Hermione replied with a grin. Drying her eyes again, Hermione went back to her desk and was about to sit back in front of her book, _Advanced Cryptic Numerology_. She didn't get halfway down before Draco grabbed her under the armpits and yanked her back up and began shoving her books into her well-worn bag.

Grimacing at him, she explained, "And we'll love you even if you are a nasty, over-bearing, rude, reckless, a—"

"Let's not get so far from love, Granger," Draco interrupted.

She wasn't kicking and screaming, but dragging her feet behind him the entire way back to their room. When Draco threw the bags down and took her hand, she remarked, "We could get a couple more hours in if we used the spell—"

"No. It's a new sleep deprivation spell and it's still got side-effects we haven't documented. Only one night a week until we're sure and given how out of sorts we've both been lately it may be less than that. Aren't you supposed to be the cautious one, Bookworm?"

"What can I say," she whispered, standing on her tiptoes to reach his ear, "you're rubbing off on me. And what did I say about nicknames?"

Crookshanks by now had woken and barely made it into the common room before rubbing around their legs until Hermione picked him up and stroked the back of his neck. Draco simply shook his head and grabbed the cat, setting him on the couch. Pulling her into his room, Draco grinned before continuing into the bathroom to change and called out, "You said that you didn't like 'Otter.' But this seems… more appropriate for you. It fits and…"

"And…" Hermione teased while throwing her crimson pajama top over her head.

Draco popped out wearing yellow and Hermione nearly fell over laughing at the site of the bright splash of yellow sauntering through the dark green and silver colorings of the room.

"Oh what, we always have to stick to House colors? That's it. You're my Bookworm from now on, Granger."

"Good," she remarked simply.

Across the castle that night, Ron and Harry were passed out on the common room couch with their transfiguration notes arranged a bit haphazardly before them. Lavender and Parvati were both asleep soundly in their bedroom. Their dream diaries were, as always, kept close to the bedsides to be filled out before breakfast while the memories were freshest. Neville had actually gone to bed at a decent hour that night. His final Herbology project was a brand new crossbreed of Fanged Geranium and the Cambik vines and that evening he had seen it bloom in greenhouse five where it promptly bit through his dragon-hide gloves and almost took his hand with it, but he hoped the pus from its outer tissue would extend the life of Forgetfulness Potion from hours to weeks. Professor Sprout had called it the best student project she had seen in more than 45 years.

That weekend was the final Hogsmeade weekend of the year and remarked widely as the first time many of the students considered staying back. Of course, Hermione insisted she and Draco go as usual to keep an eye on the younger students.

It was Ron and surprisingly not Ginny who convinced Harry to come when he argued, "We might visit Hogsmeade after graduation, but we have to go as students one last time. It's like a rite of passage."

"It's not a rite of passage," Harry remarked and pulled his best mate to a stop. "Meeting Hagrid and getting my Hogwarts letter was a rite of passage. The Sorting was a rite of passage. Facing Voldemort and surviving, well at least the first of the four times, was a rite of passage. Sitting for the exams—"

"Knock on wood," Ron interrupted. He had heard Dean use the muggle expression a few weeks ago and had taken to using it whenever anyone in his vicinity mentioned anything relating to N.E.W.T. exams.

Harry muttered a bit about how less funny that was every single time Ron said it (127 by Ginny's count) and continued, "Is a rite of passage. But one of more than two dozen trips to Hogsmeade is really not."

"You're right, Harry," Ron said in a drawl that was one of his more frequent attempts to imitate/mock Draco. "We'll stay here."

"Good."

"Finish our Transfiguration project and the report."

"Good."

"Maybe go over potions notes with Ferret and get Hermione to look over our notes on household charms when they get back."

"I suppose," Harry noted and though a little off-put by Ron's smile turned around and started back towards the tower.

Ron smiled even wider and shouted, "And you know you can help me with those defensive wards."

Harry paused and turned back. Shaking his head he hopped up a couple steps and didn't stop until he heard, "You know who is going?"

Harry didn't say a word but turned to Ron, who said, "Ginny."

"Umm… good. She can go wherever she wants."

"Good for you, mate. No jealous boyfriend here, aye?"

"Mmhmm."

"You know who told me?" Ron asked rhetorically and a moment later continued, "Michael Corner."

"Corner."

"Didn't you used to call him, Michael?"

Harry shook his head, but held his ground, "This isn't going to work, mate. You're trying to be manipulative. Tell Draco you need more lessons."

Ron held as straight a face as possible and answered, "I suggested that. But then he mentioned something… that I know you better than anyone here. Dean asked me if she was going, too. Neville didn't mention anything about Ginny, but he was on the last carriage and Lavender is going later in the day with Parvati. Colin's going to and man… he's had a thing for my sister since the night of their sorting."

Harry's face looked less annoyed and more angry by the moment. It only got worse when Ron started smiling and he grounded out, "Where's Ginny?"

"She's in a carriage on her way to town. Her… and Luna and… Dean and Colin and… I'm not sure if Michael is in that carriage or if he jumped in the next one. So… we're going to Hogsmeade?"

Harry began walking towards Ron and repeated, "We're going to Hogsmeade."

"Brilliant!"

"Stop hanging out with my brother," Harry shot out when he walked past Ron.

The brief respite from the grinding of the school year was appreciated, but of course seemed all to brief in the end. Poor Ron was almost sniffling looking back at Honeydukes one final time as the carriage pulled away. Next to him Luna was leaning against him and rubbing his back to comfort him while Harry and Ginny sat across the way holding down their giggles.

"You can come back in a couple weeks mate," Harry mentioned.

Ron glared at the two of them a bit, but softened his gaze when Luna mentioned, "It isn't the same if he's all grown up."

"Ron, you've been 18 for a bit now, you haven't been a little child in a while… even if you do act it on occasion," Ginny explained.

Ron simply huffed and leaned back into his own girlfriend and content in the knowledge that at least one person understood how he was feeling. Growing up was about how he felt about himself and had nothing if not less to do with age or a law saying you were old enough. For him being a Hogwarts student had given him a bit of extra time to be as excited in childish and simple wonderful things than adults could. Now the simple things were slipping away.

Reflection is easier with time and the seventh year students at Hogwarts had none of that. One more sleepless week and the week of final projects and papers before N.E.W.T.s had arrived. Monday started off with Transfiguration, which went well enough. The third group called on things went well-enough for Ron and Harry when the former turned the later into a large vase for five minutes and they received a bit of applause when Harry transfigured his partner into a bookshelf for the remainder of class. But the biggest surprise was Hermione and Draco missing the period. When Harry raced up to their dorm immediately afterwards (Ron was slightly delayed, digging books out from under his robes and shirt), Draco remarked, "Our project and N.E.W.T.s sitting took place yesterday."

"Why did—"

"We're bearing a lot Harry, just some alterations to our schedule McGonagall was good enough to help with."

The fact that Hermione wouldn't look up from her desk while Draco was giving the explanation with a perfectly straight face convinced Harry there was something more to it. Obviously, the gifted liar was telling him something while the open-faced and hearted girl he knew for seven years couldn't bear to look him in the face. For now he let it slide and the fact was almost forgotten by the time Wednesday rolled around.

It was the day the Herbology projects were turned in and not a one of them came close to Neville's. Draco seemed especially disgruntled that his Vampiric Venus Fly plant hardly had fangs at all. His mood didn't rebound until Friday afternoon when his paper on dragon-breeding bested both Hermione and Neville's final efforts in Care of Magical Creatures. The praise Hagrid had offered on such good work on a very, very important topic had the auburn-haired lad smiling with a familiar superior attitude around Hermione the rest of the weekend. Even what was coming Monday didn't dampen his spirits. And though the castle seemed in an uproar, all the magic from every student in Harry's class couldn't prevent the sun from rising on Monday and the assembly that morning in the Great Hall with McGonagall and Griselda Marchbanks standing right up front.

Speaking loudly enough for all to hear without any magical amplification, Marchbanks explained the schedule that would effectively be a repeat of their O.W.L. exams two years previous.

"Grading however, runs a bit differently," Marchbanks called out, grabbing the attention of every student present. "Since these grades are so very crucial in whatever career applications you may be filling for in the next few months, grades will magically appear next to the class name on your schedule within three hours of completion. The same grades are sent to Ministry records and that House count your professors think they're getting away with being smart having up in the teacher's lounge."

McGonagall actually colored a bit at the notice. Acting-Headmistress or not, she had still been the Head of Gryffindor for half the school year and held hope they would again do her proud this year.

Harry glanced at his own schedule with one exam on each day of the week. Today was Defense Against the Dark Arts followed in order by Transfiguration, Charms, Herbology and Potions. Quickly looking to either side he saw Ron bore the same schedule, while Hermione would be in all the same exams except Transfiguration while also sitting in the Ancient Runes exam later in the day and Arithmancy the next day. The busy-haired girl was smiling widely and glancing towards the Slytherin table at Draco and Harry saw the gold, glowing O next to Transfigurations and while he couldn't say he was surprised, Harry was certainly curious.

By the end of the first day, it was evident this would be a class remembered for stellar work in Defense. Despite the fact only 13 students remained to sit for the exam, every single one passed. Less than three hours after Harry repelled a slicing jinx that amplified and nearly took Professor Tofty's head off, the results appeared in the middle of supper; eight Acceptables, three Exceeds Expectations and two Outstandings. Harry pulled his schedule out to see the expected O. It seemed Gryffindor carried all three of the E's and a glance to a smug face across the Hall confirmed where the other O was.

As hard as the exams had been two years previous, these were far more difficult, but now Harry seemed to move through them with a practiced ease. Even if he worried a bit about Potions hurting his chances to become an Auror, there were bigger things on his horizon. Talk of war may have quieted, but there wasn't some delusion calm settling over people like before. The inevitable was coming, Draco's spies and Moody's contact at the Aurors… well the new Army, confirmed what everyone knew. Europe was just about abandoned by the wizarding community, England was well and truly an island. There wouldn't be any Auror training for Harry and Ron… at least until this was over.

Not that he wasn't pleased when his first two potions on Friday, the Draught of Living Death and the Laus Potion were declared, "textbook, well enough I suppose" and his final Renommee Elixir was "spot on." But regardless of the final scores, there was still graduation and the meeting ahead of him, weighing just as heavily on his mind and he paid less and less attention as the week went on to the count of everyone's N.E.W.T. totals… no he had Hermione for that.

Of course, she managed to, despite her own constant misgivings and certainty she was a step away from expulsion, perform outstanding. She even broke out of her mad book-reading funk once or twice thanks to Draco, who along with Harry and Ron managed to keep her relatively calm. At the end of the week, she had wrapped up six Outstandings and a single Exceeds Expectation. Draco, alone, earned his House four Outstandings, Exceed Expectation in both Care of Magical Creatures and Ancient Runes and an Acceptable in Herbology. Harry ended up passing his final four classes with a pair of Exceeds Expectations and a pair of Acceptables, while Ron passed as well, though with a pair of Exceeds Expectation in Defense and Transfiguration and three Acceptables.

The night after the final exam Draco dragged Hermione away from reading in Dumbledore's library and practically tossed her into Gryffindor Tower for an impromptu celebration party organized by Ginny and a few of the other D.A. members.

"Granger, you could have practically won House honors on your own," Draco argued as he pulled her smaller frame down the stairs. "Besides I know how much you want one last night in your silly tower."

"It isn't silly, Potter! And as if a dungeon is any better, some grimy, icky, probably infested with disease—"

"Nothing wrong with being on the bottom," Draco teased with a smirk, smacking her rump. "Besides, we both can have a night with our mates before graduation. Of course, you do have some that are older than thirteen…"

Hermione froze in her tracks at the mention of graduation and threw the hand Draco wasn't holding over her mouth, muttering, "Oh, bugger."

After Draco came to a stop and offered a questioning look, she explained, "With all the… the… I forgot…"

"What?"

"I forgot to do a third draft of our speech!"

Draco managed to hold a steady face for about three seconds before spurts of laughter forced their way out. A swift punch to his stomach hurt like hell, but didn't stop him.

"Put a sock in it, Potter. You want to look a fool tomorrow in front of the staff, the Minister and the other seventh years—"

"All eighteen of them," Draco mentioned, pulling a sullen expression onto her face.

It only grew worse when she stumbled over the name of the final group, "the fam-lies."

Draco held a tight smile and took her arm again, rubbing it slowly. The Minister had long considered the Hogwarts graduation a prime target for Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Various steps had been taken to discourage sparking a new attack. A platoon of soldiers, all decorated Aurors would be on hand for security. In addition to the protective wards that had surrounded Hogwarts for as long as most people could remember, Ministry-approved anti-apparation wards were extended over the surrounding area, including Hogsmeade. And finally the parents of muggleborns students would not be allowed to attend. It was considered too much of a risk and made too good of a target considering the Death Eaters feelings on the matter.

Draco thought about reminding her about the optional ceremony at the Ministry later in the summer. He swallowed his own objection. Hermione had been one of the first to refuse. She wouldn't accept being handed some special treatment when she had worked for and earned the same ceremony and the same memories as every other student.

"You'll be okay?"

Hermione dried her eyes and moved to continue down the stairs, "Of course. I see them right after; that night."

"I thought you wanted to take me on some outing."

"We commoners call them dates, Potter. And I do. I want them to meet you before you go away."

As Hermione continued towards Gryffindor Tower, Draco froze in his tracks. Shaking his head, he muttered, "Bloody hell."


End file.
